How can you know the design of the Designer,
the paint of the Painter?
You are mere form and flesh.
How could you possibly know Soul?
You don’t even hear the sound of the drum.
How could you see the signs of the hidden secrets?
You are not even aware of the C of the curse.
How could you know the Truth of the believer?
Sit down.
You still have thorns in your feet.
How could you be able to go, be able to see
the green of that garden, that meadow?
You are still naming this and that.
Without giving such nonsense up,
how could you ever understand?
There are so many shapes in emptiness.
How could you know their forms?
Don’t move your jaw too much,
because you are still in the well of the self.
How could you appreciate that well
when you’re making so much noise?
Only the green tree knows the true value of rain.
You are all withered up.
How could you appreciate the rain?
Don’t be cruel to the King’s falcon.
You don’t understand the King’s falcon.
You haven’t acted like Solomon on Love’s path.
How could you know the language of the birds?
The Almighty is devoid of all faults.
The Almighty will protect and take care of you.
But, you are an animal.
How could you know the One who sees and protects you?
Just an ordinary person, an ordinary moon
made you turn and dance.
How could you know the Moon of that whirling sky?
Shems of Tebriz has appeared in that breath.
But, you are a devilish self.
How could you see such Divine Light?
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 19, Ghazal 270, verses 2762-2774, pages 122-123.