O pilgrim, where are you going? Where?
The Beloved is here, coming, coming.
Your Beloved is your next-door neighbor.
What kind of idea makes you wander around this desert like a vagabond?
If you see the formless form of the Beloved,
you are a true pilgrim.
You are the owner of the house.
At least ten times you have moved from this house to that one.
Now, for the first time, you have climbed from this house
to the ceiling.
You want to reach the house of favors.
You talk about signs.
Show me a sign from the owner.
If you see the garden, where is your bundle of roses?
If you have dived into the sea of God,
where is the pearl of the soul?
Even for all this,
I do hope you find some treasures for your troubles.
But alas, you are the veil to your treasure.
If you want to see the house of your soul,
first, you must polish the mirror of your heart.
Lift these mysterious curtains.
Tear your mask. Know You without you.
You are not poor.
You are the Sultan of sultans.
You are the treasure hidden in this pile of dirt.
Rise from these dark clouds like a full moon.
The king of the Earth, the praise of Tabriz,
He shows such strange, wonderful features
that your soul will be exhilarated.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 20, ghazal 16, verses 184-190, pages 34-35.