Even sand has been satiated by water,
but water cannot satiate me.
There is no bowstring
which deserves my heavy, valuable bow.
The sea is my worthless drink.
The mountain is my unimportant morsel.
O my God, open a way for me.
Tell me: what kind of alligator am I?
I am as thirsty as an angel of death.
I am whirling like hell in order to find a big morsel to swallow.
There is no remedy except to reach Love’s nature, to reach Love.
No one except You can feed Love.
Reason is a very agile and great commander,
but when it falls into Your trap,
it loses its head and its beard.
You are the One,
the Truth to the One who knows God is one.
You are the One who shapes
the heart of the One who resembles God for humans.
Noah became a friend to a few pieces of wood.
At the height of Your waves,
thanks to the fragrance coming from Your side of the curtain,
his soul became drunk.
It fell down, bewildered.
Be silent. Go toward the house of silence.
O one who remains, becoming an invalid of his town,
go back to that town where you belong.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 21, Ghazal 118, verses 1285-1292, pages 262-263.