What kind of work bench do You have in that heart?
What idols are You carving in that heart?
Spring has come. It is seed time.
Who knows what You are sowing in that heart?
Outside, You are covered with curtains of secrecy.
But, You are wide open in the middle of that heart.
The person who searches gets his feet stuck in the mud.
But, You scratch his head in that heart.
If a heart were not bigger and greater than the skies,
You wouldn’t ride the Moon in that heart.
If a heart were not such a big city,
no Sultan could fit in, move around in that heart.
O my Soul, the heart is an amazing forest.
You are the master of hunting in that heart.
There are thousands of waves which move in the sea of heart.
You harvest pearls in that heart.
I have kept silent,
because even if one tries to describe its qualities,
no mind can comprehend the heart.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 18, Ghazal 103, verses 1024-1032, pages 3-4.
