O pious ascetic, you lack the sorrow
of separation from a beloved;
you have nothing to do with the gathering
of the people of heart.
As long as you retain your prayer beads
and turban,
you will not feel ashamed
of “I” and “we.”
How can the eye of your heart ever
be illuminated
if your nights are not darkened
by His love?
O you who have no commander
in love,
how will you ever ascend
the gallows of fana?
No lover will ever call you
free from care
if you do not bear the burden
of His sorrow in the heart.
If you truly have no secret bond
with the intellect,
why then do you not relentlessly
pursue love?
You will be the bestower of light
to love’s display
if for you there is nothing of value
but love.