غزل شمارهٔ 1353

Why does the soul not take wing, when from the presence of Glory the address of grace like sugar comes to the soul saying, “Come up”?

How should a fish not leap nimbly from the dry land into the water, when the sound of waves reaches its ear from the limpid sea?

Why should the falcon not fly from the quarry towards the king, when it hears from drum and drumstick the tidings Return?

Why should not every Sufibegin to dance like a mote in the sun of immortality, that it may deliver him from decay?

Such grace and beauty and loveliness and life-bestowing—can any man dispense with Him? What misery and error!

Fly, fly, O bird, to your origin, for you have escaped from the cage and your feathers and wings are outspread.

Journey away from the brackish water towards the water of life; return to the high table of the soul from the porter’s lodge.

Off, off! For we too, O soul, are arriving from this world of separation to that world of union.

How long like children in this earthly world shall we fill our skirts with dust and stones and crocks?

Let us leave go of earth and fly heavenwards, let us flee from childhood to the banquet of men.

Look not to see how the earthly mould has put you in a sack; split the sack and lift your head out of the sack.

Take from the air this book in your right hand; you are not a child, not to know your right from your left.

God said to Reason’s messenger, “Lift up your foot!”, to the hand of Death, “Beat the ear of concupiscence!”

A call came to the spirit, “Speed away into the Unseen; take the gain and the treasure, and lament the pain no more.”

Do you call aloud, and proclaim that you are King; yours is the grace of the answer, and yours is the knowledge of the question.