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District to District

How can You ever leave my sight —

          when You are the light of my eyes

and have come to rest in the midst of

          my heart and soul?

I have been freed from self —

          with just one glance

You bought my existence

          and I became Your slave.

You are the king of beauty,

          and all hearts are Your captives.

You alone have heard

          this well-sealed secret.

Your Love always

          tears away the veils;

You have split open my heart

          with the arrow of Your eyelash.

O bird of truth still flying

          from district to district,

tell me: have you ever flown

          to any district but His?

Ask the false claimant

          if with his heart’s hand

he has ever picked a blossom

          from the garden of love.

Silence, Nurbakhsh, for in the faith

          of the people of heart,

You have chosen the best direction in which to pray:

          towards the Beloved.

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