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The Sin of Self-Assertion

Let me declare it outright:

          I am ashamed of myself

and my being — such has the hand of fate

          molded my clay.

Who am I? A helpless one,

          unaware of either head or foot.

Day and night my soul is ablaze

          with the fire of love.

I am a dust-mote, dancing in the air of…

          I will say no more.

A dust-mote, I said — no, much less!

          I am ashamed of what I said.

Out of desire for Him I burn

          like a candle,

but I am disgusted

          with my own flame’s self-display.

Self-assertion is a sin

          that the Friend does not forgive;

with a single glance,

          He cut me off from “I” and “we.”

Thirty years have passed for me,

          though it seems many more;

I am now unaware

          of the passing years.

I am Nurbakhsh….No, who am I? Nothing.

          What was I? A shadow.

What did I become? Effaced. For whom?

          For the One who brings peace to my heart.

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