We are brave, insolent revolutionaries
who play with our own lives.
It is a pity that this muddy flesh
is the peer of our pure, clean soul.
Everyone goes from the beginning to the end.
Yet, we go from the end to the beginning.
The Sultan has beaten that big drum again.
Friends, all the falcons have flown away.
Don’t fly to the six dimensions. Fly the way of the falcons.
Since that voice has come and touched your heart, head that way.
O ailing heart, gather our belongings.
Only two or three days remain for our migration.
It doesn’t matter whether you are at the top or the bottom here.
Immortality, glory and superiority all reside there.
Don’t open the wings of words,
because you fly wingless on that side.
The things of which we are speaking are nothing but a shell.
Look for the One who is the Essence of that shell.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 13, Gazel 93, Verses 1077-1085, Page 174,