غزل شمارهٔ 3001

Reed, very sweet it is that you know the secrets; that one does the work who has knowledge of the work.

Reed, like the bulbul you are lamenting for the rose; do not scratch your neck, for you know the thornless rose.

I said to the reed, “You share the beloved’s breath; do not steal the secret [from me].” The reed said, “Knowledge is for your total destruction.”

I said, “My salvation is in my destruction; set fire, burn, do not leave knowledge.”

He said, “How shall I be a brigand on this caravan? I know that knowledge is the leader.”

I said, “Since the Beloved cherished not those gone astray, knowledge has become disgusted with itself.”

You who are unaware of self, you have nine eyes; awareness is for us the veil of eyes and sight.

You are a companion of the lip because you have been beheaded; in this way head is a shame, and knowledge a disgrace.

You have become empty of self and full of secrets because you are aware of self-worshiping and unbelief.

What lament, when you drink of the ruby lips of the Beloved? Let knowledge utter this bitter lament.

No, no, you do not lament of yourself, noble one; weep for him who is aware of others.

If heaven laments, the ox is under the load; you are aware of this reversed deceptive horseshoe.