You spilled the Water of Life
in order to save water to wash your face.
You wasted sugar and honey
and put poison in your mouth.
You became drunk in a way
which doesn’t allow separation of the Earth from the sky.
You spilled water from the Euphrates
for a little dirty water.
It is not worth it.
Don’t run after straw and barley.
Gold is being scattered as alms
even for the poor.
Become Soul. Don’t look for direction.
Be Essence. Don’t be an attribute.
Look at the Sultan who is nowhere,
the One who has thrown off
top, bottom and all of the sides.
It’s too bad.
Your core rode its horse toward the skin.
Your inside turned over outside.
Alas, your king is worrying about being checkmated.
The Sultan of the heart
now goes from one house to another,
carrying the fear of a checkmate.
The pawn’s faces are all pale, waiting to be saved.
That Sultan of the heart lost the deed to his soul.
When he found it, his purse was torn
and bits of that deed were scattered all about.
Because of His attributes,
our attributes recognized the thorn of the rose.
The house of our attributes was scattered
like the petals of a rose
on the road to His Essence
The wings which carried you to the trap
is a false one.
You will see on the day of your death
that they will all fall apart.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 21, Ghazal 85, verses 926-934, pages 189-190.