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The Ocean of Tracelessness

Drowned in the ocean of tracelessness,

          I am oblivious to self,

with no concern for created beings.

          What can trouble me now?

It has been a while since, through remembering Him,

          I became estranged from self;

neither sting nor salve

          can affect my state.

On the plane of madness

          the heart has no creed.

Why then do these sensible people

          still ask about my faith?

My Beloved plundered my heart and soul;

          I now have nothing left.

So why still ask me

          how much I possess?

If the Sweetheart plucks

          the strings of madness,

it is only to soothe

          my wounded heart.

O Nurbakhsh, the Beloved relentlessly

          spilt our blood,

that He might say,

          “I still remember the yearning dervishes.”

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