|My scattered dust charged with Love The shape of heart may take at last:|
O God, the grief that bowed me then May press me down as in the past!
|The Maids of Eden by their charm May arouse my urge for song:|
The flame of Love that burns in me, may fire the zeal of Celestial Throng!
|The pilgrim’s mind can dwell at times on spots and stages left behind:|
My heed for spots and places crossed, from the Quest may turn my mind!
|By the mighty force of Love I am turned to Boundless Deep:|
I fear that my self-regard, me, for aye, on shore may keep!
|My hectic search for aim and end, in life that smell and hue doth lack,|
May get renown like lover’s tale, who riding went on litter’s track!
|The rise of clay-born man hath smit the hosts of heaven with utter fright:|
They dread that this fallen star to moon may wax with fuller light.
Translated by: Syed Akbar Ali Shah