| O THOU that art as the soul in the body of the universe, |
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| Thou art our soul end thou art ever fleeing from us. |
|
| Thou breathest music into Life's lute; |
|
| Life envies Death when death is for thy sake |
1620 |
| One more bring comfort to our sad hearts, |
|
| Once more dwell in our breasts! |
|
| Once more demand from us the sacrifice of name and fame, |
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| Strengthen our weak love. |
|
| We are oft complaining of destiny, |
1625 |
| Thou art of great price and we have naught. |
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| Aide not thy fair face from the empty handed! |
|
| Sell cheap the love of Salman and Bilal!117 |
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| Give us the sleepless eye and the passionate heart, |
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| Give us again the nature of quick silver man |
1630 |
| Show unto us one of thy manifest signs, |
| That the necks of our enemies may be bowed! |
| Make this chaff a mountain crested with fire; |
| Burn with out fire all that is not God! |
| When the people of Islam let the thread of Unity go from their hands, |
1635 |
| They fell into a hundred mazes. |
| We are dispersed like stars in the world |
| Though of the same family, we are strange to one another. |
| Rind again these scattered leaves, |
| Revive the law of love! |
1640 |
| Take us back to serve thee as of old, |
| Commit thy cause to them that love thee! |
| We are travellers: give us resignation as our goal! |
| Give us the strong faith of Abraham! |
| Make us know the meaning of "There is no God." |
1645 |
| Make us acquainted with the mystery of "except Allah!"118 |
| I who burn like a candle for the sake of others |
| Teach myself to weep like that candle. |
| O God! a tear that is heart-enkindling, |
| Passionful, wrung forth by pain, peace consuming, |
1650 |
| May I sow in the garden, and may it grow into a fire |
| That washes away the fire-brand from the tulip's robe! |
| My heart is with yesterday, my eye is on to-morrow: |
| Amidst the company I am alone. |
| "Every one fancies he is my friend, |
1655 |
| But none ever sought the secrets within my Soul." |
| Oh, where in the wide world is my comrade ? |
| I am the Bush of Sinai: where is my Moses? |
| I am tyrannous, I have done many a wrong to myself, |
| I have nourished a flame in my bosom, |
1660 |
| A flame that burnt to ashes the wares of understanding, |
| Cast fire on the skirt of discretion, |
| Lessened with madness the proud reason, |
| And inflamed the very being of knowledge: |
| its blaze enthrones the sun in the sky |
1665 |
| And lightnings encircle it with adoration for ever. |
| Mine eye fell to weeping, like dew, |
| Since I was entrusted with that hidden fire. |
| I taught the candle to burn openly, |
| While I myself burned unseen by the world's eye. |
1670 |
| As last flames burst forth from every hair of me, |
| Fire dropped from the veins of my thought: |
| My nightingale picked up the grains of spark |
| And created a fire-tempered song. |
| The breast of this age is without a heart, |
1675 |
| Majnun quivers with pain because Laila's howdah is empty. |
| It is not easy for the candle to throb alone; |
| Ah, is there no moth worthy of me? |
| How long shall I wait for one to share my grief? |
| How long must I search for a confidant? |
1680 |
| O Thou whose face lends light to the moon and the stars, |
| Withdraw Thy fire from the soul! |
| Take back what Thou hast put in my breast, |
| Remove the stabbing radiance from my mirror, |
| Or give me one old comrade |
1685 |
| To be the mirror of mine all-burning love! |
| In the sea wave tosses side by side with wave: |
| Each hath a partner in its emotion. |
| In heaven star consorts with star, |
| And the bright moon lays her head on the knees of Night. |
1690 |
| Morning touches Night's dark side, |
| And To-day throws itself against Tomorrow. |
| One river loses its being in another, |
| A waft of air dies in perfume. |
| There is dancing in every nook of the wilderness. |
1695 |
| Madman dances with madman. |
| Because in thine essence Thou art single, |
| Thou hast evolved for Thyself a, whole world, |
| I am as the tulip of the field, |
| In the midst of a company I am alone. |
1700 |
| I beg of Thy grace a sympathising friend, |
| And adept in the mysteries of my nature, |
| A friend endowed with madness and wisdom, |
| One that knoweth not the phantom of vain things, |
| That I may confide my lament to his soul |
1705 |
| And see again my face in his heart. |
| His image I will mould of mine own clay, |
| I will be to him both idol and worshipper. |