There is no path
without Your tracks and footprints.
There are no eyes
that do not yearn to see You everywhere.
In the hermitage, shrine, idol-temple
and Magian cloister — there is nowhere
that is without news
of Your lovely face.
It is right that all particles exclaim
“I am the Truth,”
since there is no trace in existence
that does not come from You.
Every heart, sober or drunk,
has a way to You.
There is no door leading there that is not open
to the people of the world, thanks to You.
In the rose garden of Your beauty
there is such a vibrant commotion!
Every flower, herb and fruit
can be found there.
The intellect is lost and stupefied
on Your path,
but there is no art that love
has not mastered in Your court.
Nurbakhsh has left everyone and sits silently
in a corner, for there is no nook
that is not full of clamor and commotion
because of You.