We are here at the tavern door,
awaiting the Beloved’s wish;
our only desire
is whatever that Sweetheart wants.
A hundred thanks that we were set free
from the tarnish of multiplicity.
Now, in the realm of Unity,
what could the awakened heart want?
In the tavern, we are joyful
and without desire;
there is a burning sigh in our breasts —
what does it want?
In quest of the Beloved,
my heart bled in suffering and my soul departed;
that cunning Heart-Ravisher —
what more can She want?
Having abandoned reason,
we are bewildered and drunk;
from drunkards
what could the sensible, sober man want?
If slandered, we will not be offended,
but only wonder
what that immature, ignorant slanderer
could want.
Whether light is bestowed or not
there is no worry;
our only desire is
whatever that Sweetheart wants.