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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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