O Thou that art as the soul in the body of the universe, Thou art our soul and thou art ever fleeing from us. Thou breathest music into Life’s lute; Life envies Death when death is for thy sake. 1620 Once more bring comfort to our sad hearts, Once more dwell in our breasts! Once more let us hear thy call to honour, Strengthen our weak love. We are oft complaining of destiny, 1625 Thou art of great price and we have naught. Hide not thy fair face from the empty-handed! Sell cheap the love of Salmán and Bilál![109] Give us the sleepless eye and the passionate heart, Give us again the nature of quicksilver! 1630 Show unto us one of thy manifest signs, That the necks of our enemies may be bowed! Make this chaff a mountain crested with fire, Burn with our fire all that is not God! When the people let the clue of Unity go from their hands, 1635 They fell into a hundred mazes. We are dispersed like stars in the world; Though of the same family, we are strange to one another. Bind again these scattered leaves, Revive the law of love! 1640 Take us back to serve thee as of old, Commit thy cause to them that love thee! We are travellers: give us devotion as our goal! Give us the strong faith of Abraham! Make us know the meaning of “There is no god,” 1645 Make us acquainted with the mystery of “except Allah”! I who burn like a candle for the sake of others Teach myself to weep like the candle. O God! a tear that is heart-enkindling, Passionful, wrung forth by pain, peace-consuming, 1650 May I sow in the garden, and may it grow into a fire That washes away the fire-brand from the tulip’s robe! My heart is with yestereve, my eye is on to-morrow: Amidst the company I am alone. “Every one fancies he is my friend, 1655 But my secret thoughts have not escaped from my heart.” Oh, where in the wide world is my comrade? I am the Bush of Sinai: where is my Moses? I am tyrannous, I have done many a wrong to myself, I have nourished a flame in my bosom, 1660 A flame that seized the furniture of judgement, And cast fire on the skirt of discretion, And lessoned with madness the reason, And burned up the existence of knowledge: Its blaze enthrones the sun in the sky, 1665 And lightnings encircle it with adoration for ever. Mine eye fell to weeping, like dew, Since I was entrusted with that hidden fire. I taught the candle to burn openly, While I myself burned unseen by the world’s eye. 1670 At last flames breathed from every hair of me, Fire dropped from the veins of my thought: My nightingale picked up the spark-grains And created a fire-tempered song.