Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre فعلاتن فعلاتن فعلن (رمل مسدس مخبون محذوف).
Our death is an eternal wedding-feast; what is the secret of this? He is God, One.
Everywhere the scent of God is coming—see how the people are coming uncontrollably;
If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Sit with your comrades, do not go to sleep; do not go to the bottom of the sea like a fish.
Do you know where you have come? From the midst of allglorious sanctuary.