When we talk about the witness in our verse,
we talk about you.
A pure heart and a noble demeanor
cannot compete with your radiant face.
They will ask you
what you have produced.
Say to them,
except for Love,
what else can a Lover produce?

Tonight
is the night.
It's the creation of that land of eternity.
It's not an ordinary night,
it's a wedding of those who seek God.
Tonight, the bride and groom
speak in one tongue.
Tonight, the bridal chamber
is looking particularly well.

My head is bursting
with the joy of the unknown.
My heart is expanding a thousand fold.
Every cell,
taking wings,
flies about the world.
All seek separately
the many faces of my Beloved.

Love came,
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and
encircled my heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw one thing.
The Beloved's name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe…
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me
is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to the Beloved.

I am in Love!
I am in Love with him.
All this advise--
what's the use?
I have drunk poison.
All this sugar
what's the use?
You say hurry,
tie up his feet.
But its my heart that's gone crazy,
all this rope
around my feet--
what's the use?

There is a certain Love
that is formed out of the
elixir of the East.
There is a certain cloud,
impregnated with a
thousand lightnings.
There is my body,
in it an ocean formed of his glory,
all the creation,
all the universes,
all the galaxies,
are lost in it.

I Saw Goodness Getting Drunk


I am gone,
lost any sense of wanting the wine
of the nowhereness ask me,
I don't know where I am.
At times I plunge
to the bottom of the sea,
at times, rise up
like the Sun.
At times, the universe is pregnant by me,
at times I give birth to it.
The milestone in my life
is the nowhereness,
I don't fit anywhere else.
This is me:
a rogue and a drunkard,
easy to spot
in the tavern of Lovers.
I am the one shouting hey ha.
They ask me why I don't
behave myself.
I say, when you
reveal your true nature,
then I will act my age.
Last night, I saw Goodness getting drunk.
He growled and said,
I am a nuisance, a nuisance.
A hundred souls cried out, but
we are yours, we are yours, we are yours.
You are the light
that spoke to Moses and said
I am God, I am God, I am God.
I said Shams-e Tabrizi, who are you?
He said, I am you, I am you, I am you.

You Worry Too Much


Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You say,
I make you feel dizzy.
Of a little headache then,
why do you worry?   
You say, I am your antelope.
Of seeing a lion here and there
why do you worry?
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You say, I am your moon-faced beauty.
Of the cycles of the moon and
passing of the years,
why do you worry?
You say, I am your source of passion,
I excite you.
Of playing into the Devils hand,
why do you worry?
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
Look at yourself,
what you have become.
You are now a field of sugar canes,
why show that sour face to me?
You have tamed the
winged horse of Love.
Of a death of a donkey,
why do you worry?
You say that I keep you warm inside.
Then why this cold sigh?
You have gone to the roof of heavens.
Of this world of dust, why do you worry?
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
Since you met me,
you have become a master singer,
and are now a skilled wrangler,
you can untangle any knot.
Of life's little leash
why do you worry?
Your arms are heavy
with treasures of all kinds.
About poverty,
why do you worry?
You are Joseph,
beautiful, strong,
steadfast in your belief,
all of Egypt has become drunk
because of you.
Of those who are blind to your beauty,
and deaf to your songs,
why do you worry?
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You say that your housemate is the
Heart of Love,
she is your best friend.
You say that you are the heat of
the oven of every Lover.
You say that you are the servant of
Ali's magical sword, Zolfaghar.
Of any little dagger
why do you still worry?
Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You have seen your own strength.    
You have seen your own beauty.
You have seen your golden wings.
Of anything less,
why do you worry?
You are in truth
the soul, of the soul, of the soul.
You are the security,
the shelter of the spirit of Lovers.
Oh the sultan of sultans,
of any other king,
why do you worry?
Be silent, like a fish,
and go into that pleasant sea.
You are in deep waters now,
of life's blazing fire.
Why do you worry?

One Strand at a Time

Once more,
Love is pouring down my ceiling
and my walls.
Once more,
the lion of Love is revealing its
deadly claws
and my deer-like heart is thirsting for blood.
Once more, it's the night of the full moon,
it is time for madness.
All my immense knowledge
cannot help me now.
Once more,
Love has created another revolt in my body,    
and yet a new flame was placed in
my heart.
The awakened sweetheart has rubbed my sleep away.
Insomnia took my patience.
Rain washed away my intellect.
The Lover made me lose my profession.
What good is my work anyway?
You wonder about the lineage of the Lovers,
let me tell you about it.
Look at my Lover's hair,
see those luminous strands,
they are all in there,
one strand at a time.
Once more, rise, rise, rise,
resurrection time is here.
Oh, the Beloved,
bathe me in the essence of a
hundred resurrections.
Like the way a garden burns
in a hundred shades of orange in the fall,
a Lover's heart shrivels for a sense of the Beloved's touch.
Now the face of that charred garden
is my field of flowers.
The garden of the world is burnt,
but the garden of the heart is resurrected.
The secret of that garden may be burnt,
but the secret of the heart is resurrected.
The time of ecstasy has come,
oh my prisoned body.
The garb of health has arrived,
oh my frail heart.
Look, two hundred Jupiters
are dancing around my moon.
Oh the wise man of the ruins,
how can I ever repay this?
Give away my
cloak, my garb and headdress.
What value can these have
when the soul of the universe
is but a gulp for my drunken sweetheart?
My Love business is booming,
but don't credit the consultants.
I am done with the consultants
and the pundits,
they call you Jafar the imposter.
Little do they know,
that you are my Shams the Flyer.

 
It is your turn now,
you waited, you were patient.
The time has come,
for us to polish you.
We will transform your inner pearl
into a house of fire.
You're a gold mine.
Did you know that,
hidden in the dirt of the earth?
It is your turn now,
to be placed in fire.
Let us cremate your impurities.

 

To heal the burning of your sorrow,
I seek a flame.
To gather the dust of your door,
I seek the palms of my hands.
To deal with you hiding behind your holiness,
I seek a bliss instead.