غزل شمارهٔ 2370

What is this hurricane blowing along from heaven? Hundreds of thousands of ships staggering and reeling before it.

The ship escapes through the wind and is sunk by the wind; by the wind it is given life and is done to death.

The wind in God’s command is like the breath in yours—by your command brought to cursing or reciting praises.

Know that the winds are various as fanned by the fan of predestination; by the zephyr the world is prosperous, by the pestilence it is reduced to a waste.

Lord, you have shown the wind, do not hide the fan; to see the fan is the lamp of the breast of the pure ones.

Whoever sees it as a secondary cause is surely a formworshiper; whoever sees it as cause has become the realityknowing light.

The people of form give their lives for the desire of a bead; to the eyes of people of the sea of reality, pearls have become cheap.

The imitator, becoming the dust of true men, transmits reports from them; the others keep silence, concealed behind them.

The seeker kept his eye to the path and picked up chippings; see that chipping-picker of the road has now entered the mine.

We tremble over our faith as a mother over her child; of what should that clever one tremble who has become entirely faith?

Like a moon you are waning in the desire for leadership; let me see you like a sun, become a king without retinue.

How long will you say that smoke is a proof of fire? Silence! Let me see you become without smoke both fire and proof.

Say how long heaven has turned and goes on turning over your head; let me see you like Messiah gone above heaven!

You who seek a portion from me—“Bring this and that!”— let me see you escape from this and that, and become that and that.

Enough brawling drunkard, chattering talker, let me see you become silent-speaking like the pan of the balance.