A heart-catching smell has come from the sky,
saving every tired, broken-hearted prey from the trap of the flesh.
Every bird has gained hundreds of wings & keeps flying to the star of Pleiades.
Every kind of weight, even every mountain has started flying.
Look at the birds of Abraham.*
Even though they were torn to pieces, they came back flying.
I asked, “Oh particle, you have no wings, no head. How can you fly?”
He answered, “I fly with the wind of Love.”
From now on, you can hear no yell except the shrill pipe from that city.
You can hear no cry except the harp from that house.
The tambur says, “True life is our life,” then starts playing its melodies.
The bee of the soul learns architecture from that honey.
Today, the Cupbearer, whose offers are as generous and endless as the sea,
has given up greatness and mixed with ordinary people.
He whispers instigations to the ear of chance and fate.
But today, O my God, we are saved from such sorrow!
The Singer of the Soul sings and blows like the Son of Mary.
The Cupbearer attacks like God’s lion again and again,
offers wine, then attacks repeatedly.
If He breaks a few idols, He carves hundreds more immediately.
If He breaks two or three jars, it doesn’t matter.
His ability, His art in making new jars from kneaded mud isn’t decreased.
O nightingale, you learned all these beautiful melodies because of the rose.
But, once you reach the Beloved, you will be with Him.
You will say very little and forget all of them.
*Birds of Abraham Abraham asked God how He brought death to life. God said, “Go get four birds. Tear them to pieces and put them on top of the mountain. Now call them.” And four birds came flying. Quran II, 260.
The Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, ghazal 146, verses 1920-1930, pages 364-365.