Your soul is so close to my soul
that I know whatever you think.
I have even better proof than this.
Come closer so I can show it to you.
Come to the front of poverty.
Don’t say, “I am the leader. I am in front.”
I am like a pole in the middle of your house.
I bend my head like a gutter from your roof.
I am your twin brother at the gathering,
as well as at death and resurrection.
I turn around your assembly like a glass of wine.
I walk in front of your war like a spear.
Even if I keep flashing off and on like lightning,
I am mute like your beautiful lightning.
I am drunk all the time.
It makes no difference if I take life or give life.
I gain even if I give life to you,
because you give hundreds of universes to one life.
There are thousands of deaths buried in this house.
You sit on top of them, saying,”These are all my belongings.”
A handful of dirt says, “I used to be hair.”
Another says, “I used to be bone.”
You become confused.
Suddenly, Love comes and says,
“Come close to me. I am immortal.
“Press your chest to My silver chest.
Embrace Me, so I will save you from yourself.”
O Husrev,* be silent.
Don’t talk too much about Shirin.
My mouth is burning with taste and pleasure.
*Husrev and Shirin Two characters in a legendary Persian love story.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 18, Ghazal 114, verses 1120-1130, pages 19-20.