His Comfort, His Torture (12/4/2022)

My wish is God. My disciple is God.

I give my old to God. I give my new to God.

 

I have been laid down

under the feet of fate and accident.

 

This payment has nothing to do with being clean or dirty.

There is no good or evil under the greatness of God.

If as much as a breath separates me from Him,

that breath is no good for me.

 

I cannot pull myself away from His comfort or His torture.

God’s wishes make me sometimes a lock, sometimes a key.

 

Even when I blink my eyes,

I cannot take my eyes away from Him.

The things I have now, the things I had before,

they are all His.

 

His is the mirror’s eye.

My soul and body become beautiful thanks to that eye.

My reliance and tolerance are all adorned by Him.

 

Throw yourself open like a ball,

so that the Sultan may hit you with His club.

Aren’t you part of these festivities?

 

All these people around us resemble clubs,

and it is said that angels are the ones who are swinging them.

In fact, for things distant and close, He is the One who does everything.

 

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Looking around, hesitating, having force and power are all from God.

He could give you everything.

He could send light to every creature.

 

O, the beautiful gazelle makes musk and ambergris on a belly button,

because you have been out in His pastures with the crocuses and hyacinths.

Divan-i Kebir, Volume 20, Ghazal 71, verses 797-804, 806-807, 813-814, pages 151-154.