We are noble drunks, lovers ready
to gamble our lives.
Everyone is proud of somebody;
God is the pride of our lives.
If the Beloved wishes, we’ll give up
spirit, heart and soul,
and if He permits we’ll throw our heads down
at His feet.
The capital of Sufism is selflessness
and contentment —
we have set our hearts on God and are in harmony
with whatever He wills.
There’s room within our chests
only for love and purity;
in the workshop of existence we are confidants
of this mystery.
Until pain and suffering for His sake become
the cure of our hearts,
we will not become involved with anything
but love’s sorrow for Him.
We have donated the catch of both worlds
to our Beloved.
We want no carcasses;
we are falcons, not vultures.
At every moment God bestows light
on our souls,
while we go racing passionately
towards Him.