Rise, O lovers. Let us all ascend to the sky.
We have seen this earth. Let us see the other one.
No, no. Both gardens are beautiful and nice.
Let us give up both of them and go to the Gardener.
We run toward the sea by prostrating like the torrent.
Once we merge with the sea, we walk and run, clapping our hands like foam over the sea.
In order to go on a journey from the world of grief to the world of weddings and joy,
we leave this pale face that’s like saffron and get a pink one, like the purple juda tree.
We will arrive at the land of mercy by trembling like a leaf,
trembling from the fear of falling.
We are in a foreign land. There is no way to stay away from trouble.
We are on the journey of the country of soil, impossible to be free from dust.
We will fly like green parrots, fluttering our beautiful wings.
We have become the land of sugar. We will go to the square of sugar.
All these forms are evidence of that Painter.
Although His trace is not apparent, we will go to that Painter who is hidden from evil eyes.
The grace of the Sultan’s shadow will protect us.
Even then, it is better to go with the caravan.
We resemble rain on a roof full of cracks and holes.
We should avoid the cracks, go through the gutter pipe.
We are bent like a bow, because the bowstring is in our throat.
We came here straight. We should leave like an arrow, fly out of the bow.
We have stayed at home like a mouse because of the fear of cats.
If we truly are the sons of the Lion, we should go to that Lion.
We purify, polish our soul like a mirror to have beauty like Joseph’s,
So we will arrive at His beauty with gifts.
We will keep silent.
The One who makes us talk would say,
“And we will go that way.'”
Divan-i Kebir, Meter 4, Gazel 75, Verses 3254-3268, Pages 145-146.