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Once I cast off my existence

          at the feet of the heart,

I became a stranger to the self

          but acquainted with the heart.

Everyone faces some direction to pray:

          mine is love,

and its sanctuary is the ambience

          of the heart.

Now that I’ve emptied

          the heart’s chamber,

may the Beloved

          step inside.

The heart is not that organ

          in your chest;

it is the most sublime throne,

          where God is found.

In the cage of the body, no one ever witnessed

          the bird of the soul.

In the prison of the spirit, one cannot find

          the phoenix of the heart.

Many have been sacrificed

          on this path.

Many a lover’s soul has been sacrificed

          for the heart’s sake.

Since Nurbakhsh departed from the domain

          of “I” and “you,”

he has been resting contentedly

          in the sublime sanctuary of the heart.

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