From love, existence has come to possess
a wondrous fervor and music —
the heart of every seemingly worthless atom
contains God.
Not only the dust dwellers
stricken with grief for Him have purity of heart —
wherever love pitches its tent,
that place becomes serene.
Be a servant of the master of the Magi,
for in the realm of baqa
only those are truly alive who have received from him
the sanction of fana.
Abandon self-worship, my friend,
for no one with
any trace of self shall enter
the presence of the Friend.
The tavern’s retreat
is a safe place indeed,
with healing water
and a rejuvenating atmosphere.
One can’t receive a cup from the cupbearer
through mere desire —
only those with true yearning
are granted this wine.
Nurbakhsh, stop seeking a remedy.
Be at rest,
for this pain of ours
has no cure.