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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.

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