Keep playing, tambourine, keep playing. You will reach the kingdom.
O One who is the confidant of men and women, don’t worry.
Be brave.
Give power, take power.
O One who is involved with trading, don’t give up, don’t give up.
Go for absolute profit.
If you’re concerned about losing your honor, don’t be afraid.
He will give you hundreds of honors.
Your soul will come to life and be saved
from the shame of going to the grave, the shame of needing the grave digger.
You come here today drunk, hitting both modesty and shame.
Now, O candle of soul, shine,
Shine and enlighten everywhere.
Save yourself from the shame of having your light extingished.
I burned my mantle.
I gave up acceptance and disapproval of the people.
Tell that poet Abu-I Ala that I don’t care if he treats me coldly,
if that philosopher Abu-I Hasan is mad at me.
If you’re so noble, why are you going after gain all the time?
Such behavior always brings disgrace,
especially if you expect something from some other human.
Hundreds of souls are sacrificed to my Beloved.
My crown, my turban are sacrificed.
If I go to the stokehole of the bath with Him,
even heaven becomes jealous,
because that stokehole turns into a rose garden.
Ashes and dust become iris.
Like the manners of my Beloved,
everything changes in ways impossible to describe.
I’ll obey the order of my Beloved. I’ll be silent.
I’ll follow the rhythm of the rope. I’ll jump like a rope.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, ghazal 111, verses 1395-1403, pages 267-268.