Since the day I made a pact
of love with You,
I have been joyful, having given my heart
to a crafty, drunken Turk.
Your sun-like face
has turned my breast into a fire-temple,
since I have given my heart
to a fire-worshiper.
To conquer the land of the heart
with the sword of love,
I have defeated on every front
the army of “I” and “we.”
Every moment my Beloved traverses
from pre- to post-eternity.
Indeed I have thrown my heart at the feet
of a swift heart-ravisher.
In the battle of love,
I detached my heart from the world;
I have given Him the trophy
of my own obliteration.
So that my Mansurian wine
may render a whole world drunk,
I let my heart swim in blood
and gave my body to the noose of the gallows.
I am the bestower of light,
freed from concern for my own being or non-being,
since I gave up my own existence
for the love of the True Being.