I’ll abandon this transitory
“I” and “we.”
I’ll clear away this make-believe existence
of mine.
O giver of advice, don’t frighten me
with talk of the hazards of the path.
I’ll be galloping along towards His district
on His feet.
In the school of love and purity,
the intellect has no authority.
I will not take heed of the books
of Avicenna and Razi.
I view the creation as
the Friend’s newly-planted trees.
I will not discriminate among
Turks, Arabs and Hindus.
Every creature has come to existence
through the generosity of God’s being.
I will express my compassion
to whomever I see.
Day and night, before the coyness
of the Mahmud of the Soul,
I express my love like Ayaz:
with the goods of nothingness.
Do not speak of union with Him —
no being has the capacity to bear it.
O Nurbakhsh, in my heart I love God
through remembrance of Him.