Imbue thine heart with the tincture of Allah, Give honour and glory to Love! 1320 The Moslem’s nature prevails by means of love: The Moslem, if he be not loving, is an infidel. Upon God depends his seeing and not-seeing, His eating, drinking, and sleeping. In his will that which God wills becomes lost-- 1325 “How shall a man believe this saying?”[92] He encamps in the field of “There is no god but Allah”; In the world he is a witness against mankind. His high estate is attested by the Prophet that was sent to men and Jinn-- By the most truthful of witnesses. 1330 Leave words and seek that spiritual state, Shed the light of God o’er the darkness of works! Albeit clad in kingly robe, live as a dervish, Live wakeful and meditating on God! Whatever thou doest, let it be thine aim therein to draw nigh to God, 1335 That His glory may be made manifest by thee. Peace becomes an evil, if its object be aught else; War is good if its object is God. If God be not exalted by our swords, War dishonours the people. 1340 The holy Sheikh Miyán Mír Walí,[93] By the light of whose soul every hidden thing was revealed-- His feet were firmly planted on the path of Mohammed, He was a flute for the impassioned music of love. His tomb keeps our city safe from harm 1345 And causes the beams of true religion to shine on us. Heaven stooped its brow to his threshold, The Emperor of India was one of his disciples.[94] Now, this monarch had sown the seed of ambition in his heart And was resolved on conquest. 1350 The flames of vain desire were alight in him, He was teaching his sword to ask, “Is there any more?”[95] In the Deccan was a great noise of war, His army stood on the battlefield. He went to the Sheikh of heaven-high dignity 1355 That he might receive his blessing: The Moslem turns from this world to God And strengthens policy with prayer. The Sheikh made no answer to the Emperor’s speech, The assembly of dervishes was all ears, 1360 Until a disciple, in his hand a silver coin, Opened his lips and broke the silence, Saying, “Accept this poor offering from me, O guide of them that have lost the way to God! My limbs were bathed in sweat of labour 1365 Before I put away a dirhem in my skirt.” The Sheikh said: “This money ought to be given to our Sultan, Who is a beggar wearing the raiment of a king. Though he holds sway over sun, moon, and stars, Our Emperor is the most penniless of mankind. 1370 His eye is fixed on the table of strangers, The fire of his hunger hath consumed a whole world. His sword is followed by famine and plague,