The nest of existence
is the dwelling of the dervish;
he exists for the world,
and the world exists for him.
When he decides to leave this abode,
he will reside in a place
that is the realm
of his own annihilation.
With no name or trace
he will travel there,
to behold his Lord manifest
everywhere in that realm.
His discerning eyes
see no strangers;
wherever he looks
everyone is his friend.
When, like a reed-pipe,
his heart is emptied of “I” and “we,”
the Reed Player’s breath blows through him,
“I am the Truth.”
No one knows the dervish
but God;
his beginning is God,
and God is his end.
O Nurbakhsh, you have raised high
the banner of the dervish in the world;
this action, too,
is from the purity of the dervish.