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My drunken Beloved stepped out

          from Her house;

my frenzied heart became

          chained in madness.

Thousands of bewitching glances

          darted from Her eyes,

and the hearts of the people had gathered,

          desiring to fall under their spell.

Creation was unable

          to fathom Her steps;

next to Her grandeur

          existence seemed despicable and disgraced.

Myriad suns and moons

          were bewildered on Her path;

heavenly spheres in countless numbers

          followed Her steed on foot.

Her alef-like loftiness

          raised the commotion of resurrection;

the back of the universe bent over

          and collapsed like nun.

Every nimble-footed runner

          had fallen over by the wayside;

the head of every exalted man

          was bent low.

I, a needy, wretched lover,

          was bewildered:

why was the Unique Sweetheart

          revealing Herself to all?

In a state of rapture

          Nurbakhsh was crying out

and his heart’s blood

          was dripping from his eye.

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