O my Beloved, O my Beloved!
O One who doesn’t know mercy!
O my charmer, the One who took my heart!
O my confidant, the One who relieves my grief!
O One who becomes the Moon for us on Earth!
O One who becomes dawn In the middle of the night!
O One who becomes a shield for us In the moment of danger!
O my cloud which rains sugar for me!
How beautifully You flow in my soul.
How beautifully You cure my illnesses.
O my religion, O my faith,
O my sea full of pearls!
O torch for night passengers!
O chain for crazy Lovers!
O direction of prayer for everyone!
O my caravan master!
You are a brigand and, at the same time, a guide,
the Moon and, at the same time, Jupiter.
You are on this side and, at the same time, on the other one,
the comer where I stand, the place on which I rely.
You came like the prophet Joseph, looking for a customer.
You’ve come to bum my Egypt, my bazaar.
You are the Moses of my Mount Sinai,
the Jesus who cures all my illnesses.
You are the halo of my light.
You are my Prophet Muhammad.
You are company for me in the dungeon
and sometimes my smiling prosperity.
I swear to God
that You are hundreds of times more than that.
O my Beloved, who deserves more praise than my many, many praises!
You tell me, “Jump over to this side.”
I ask, “How can I come to Your temple?”
You answer, “O my deceitful one, O my creature, don’t try to find excuses.”
I say, “You are an unmeasurable treasure who deserves sultans.”
“Yes,” He answers, “but it is not free. I want soul, special soul.”
I say, “I agree. Take the weight from me.”
If you want treasure, give up your head.
If you want Love, give up your soul.
Come in rank.
Don’t return, O my hero who attacks like a lion.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, ghazal 88, verses 1080-1090, pages 208-209.