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Without love

          one’s breath is empty

and one cannot set foot

          near any beloved.

When the nightingale of love

          shed its feathers,

the rose relocated

          amid thorns and thickets.

When a heart is not

          drunk with the Beloved,

whatever it says

          is out of raw desire.

Every time that the bird-like heart

          fluttered its wings

inside the cage, it was

          out of joy and ecstasy.

The moment love arrived

          at my door,

it pushed aside the display

          of the intellect.

Once love became the ruler of

          the heart’s realm,

it cut off the way of the mufti

          and his enforcers everywhere.

Nurbakhsh’s heart

          was lost in love,

as he constantly breathed

          in remembrance of Him.

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