غزل شمارهٔ 1786

Stealthily as the soul, you are going in the midst of my soul; O luster of my garden, you are my gracefully moving cypress.

When you go, go not without me; soul of my soul, go not without my body, and depart not out of my sight, O my blazing torch.

I tear up the seven heavens and pass beyond the seven seas, when lovingly you gaze into my giddy soul.

Since you came into my bosom, infidelity and faith are my servitors, O you whose vision is my religion, whose face is my faith.

You have made me headless and footless, you have made me sleepless and foodless; enter drunken and laughing, O my Joseph of Canaan.

Through your grace I have become soul-like and have become hidden from myself, O you whose being has become hidden in my hidden being.

The rose rends its garment because of you, O you with whom the narcissus’ eye is intoxicated, of whom the branches are pregnant, O you my infinite garden.

One moment you brand me, the next you draw me into the garden; you draw me before the lamp so that my eyes may be opened.

O soul before all souls, O mine before all mines, O moment before all moments, O my very own, O my very own!

Our resting place is not earth; though the body crumbles, it matters not. My thought is not the skies, O you, union with whom is my heaven.

The grave of mariners is the sea forevermore; in the water of life where is death, O you, my Sea, my Ocean?

O you whose scent is in my sigh, whose sigh is my fellow traveler, in the hope of my Emperor color and scent have become distraught with me.

My soul, since like a mote in the air it has become separated from all heaviness, why should it be without you, O origin of my four elements?

O my king S.al¯ah. al-D¯ın, you who know my way and see my way, you who are free of concern with my little dignity, loftier than my potentiality.