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The Sufi’s Retreat

In the heart of the selfless there is room

          only for the Beloved;

in the Sufi’s retreat there is no room

          for anyone else.

When the space of the heart

          fills with love,

no stranger can be seen,

          there is no room for others.

O mullah, in the banquet of madness

          don’t boast of your intellect;

in the circle of the drunk,

          there is no room for the sober.

The lover’s book contains no mention

          of states and stations,

or talk of adab; there is no room

          for secrets.

In the religion of the people of the heart,

          litany and prayer express self-existence;

where no desire exists, there is no room

          for insistence.

In that lane where heads roll,

          there is no “I” and “we”;

a chief would be out of place,

          there is no room for a commander.

Light will be bestowed upon you the moment

          you cease to exist;

in the darkness of “I” and “we”

          there is no room for light.

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