|The mind can give you naught, But what with doubt is fraught:|
One look of Saintly Guide Can needful cure provide.
|The goal that you presume Is far and out of view:|
What else can be this life But zeal for endless strife?
|Much worth the pearl begets, For guard on self it sets:|
What else in pearl is found Except its sheen profound?
|Though blood in veins may race, To Life it lends no grace:|
Only the glow of heart To Life can zeal impart.
|Wherefore, O Tulip Bride, From me your charms you hide?|
I am the breath of morn, Your face I would adorn.
|What Frankish dealers take For counterfeit and fake,|
Is true and real art— Not valued in their Mart.
|Though indigent I be, I am of hand yet free:|
What can the Flame bestow Except its spark and glow?
Translated by: Syed Akbar Ali Shah