O Beloved whose light comes from behind the curtain,
Your light and warmth are like summer for us.
Take us to the rose garden. Our hearts are fiery like summer.
O salve for the eyes of my soul, where did You go?
Come, come, so that water will spring from our oven.
Come, so the barren land will be green,
the cemeteries will become gardens,
grapes will ripen and our bread will be baked.
O Sun of the soul, Sun of the heart,
O One with the Beauty which shames the Sun,
Come and see how this sticky mud has gotten stuck to our soul.
We can’t get rid of it!
The kindness of Your face
has changed so many thorns into so many rose gardens
that our faith has been acknowledged hundreds of thousands of times.
O Eternal Love, in order to deliver our soul from out of this dungeon to God,
how beautifully You show Your face from behind this mold.
O our bright morning, make joy during the time of gloom.
Show a bright, wonderful day in the evening.
You make pearls out of blue beads.
You scare Venus.
You make kings out of the penniless.
Good for You, O our Sultan.
Where are the eyes which can see a trace of Your dust?
Where are the ears which can hear our testament?
Where is the mind which understands our evidence?
If our heart were to see the Beauty of that Sugar Cane
and speak of its grace and favors,
taste and flavor would sing songs at the bottom of our every tooth.
The sound of drums coming from the Land of Soul says,
“Particles are reaching wholeness,
sweet basil to sweet basil, rose to rose.
Everything is becoming free from the jail of our thorns.”
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, Ghazal 7, verses 121-131, pages 22-23.