What pearl are you? For in no man’s hand is the price of you. What does the world possess that is not your gift?
Is there a worse punishment than his who lives exiled from your face? Do not punish your servant, for all that he is unworthy of you.
Every moment I would scatter my heart and soul in your dust; dust be on the head of the soul that is not the dust of your feet!
Blessed to all birds is your air; how unblest is the bird that is not in your air!
Amidst the billows of contingencies even the master shall not escape by swimming, if he is not familiar with you.
The world has no permanence, and if it has, count it as perishing, since it is not intimate with your permanence.
How happy is the king that is mated by your rook! How fair of presence is he who is never without your presence!
I will not flee from your blow, for very raw indeed is the heart that is not roasted in the fire of your trial.
The heart that has not been naughted turns its face to place; from placelessness you drive it, saying, “Begone! This is no place for you.”
There is no end to your praise and praisers; what atom is there that is not reeling with your praise?
As Niz.¯am¯ı expresses it in verse, “Tyrannise not, for I cannot endure your tyranny.”
