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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.

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