For some time, I have been left on this journey
with the sound of, “start the journey,” to keep me going.
For some time, I have lived with the word, “go,”
but I have lost the location of my tent.
When will You save me from the voice which says things like,
“Go, get on the road,”
so that I can reach You, Your glory,
O Beauty, whose face is like the moon, the place of my harvest?
O my Beloved! The One who is the light of the Sun!
With Your Love, I have been happy on this journey
through mountain and valley,
through plain and river,
through day and night.
But, how is my road to be opened?
Where is that face? Where is that Sultan?
Tell me about that. Tell me. Tell me about that.
I have been burned and burned in my desire for that Sultan.
How long will I be asking the morning breeze
for news from You?
How long will I be searching through the image
of the fish in the well’s water?
I have been burned hundreds of times.
I have flowered with the kindness of spring.
In all cases, I have admired the art of God.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, Ghazal 94, verses 1180-1185, page 226.