We have gone. Best wishes to the rest.
Those born here on this planet always die here.
The One who lives above
knows that falling rock will surely hit the ground.
Don’t be so angry. Relax.
On the Earth, masters and pupils are all the same.
O pretty one, don’t be spoiled.
All the beauties buried here have already turned into dust.
How long do you think it stands,
this house built only by wind?
If we are bad, we die with our badness.
If we are good, we are remembered by our goodness.
Even if you think you are the master of your life,
you will go just like the others.
Make good deeds your children
so as not to vanish and be forgotten.
Strings spun out of virtues remain
as the texture of the house of eternity.
The thing that stays immortal
is that filtered, pure essence of Love.
Look at the sand, how it comes and goes,
moving endlessly, destroying one world now and creating new ones immediately.
Here I stand in this barren land, like Noah’s ark.
The flood is my time of death.
Noah’s ark was also waiting for waves
from the land of Absence.
I lie down and sleep among the silent ones.
Our voices and screams have long since passed the boundaries.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 13, Gazel 77, Verses 906-919, Pages 146-147.