You say,
" I myself have Free-will,
For my body is the horse
and my soul the rider,
The reins of the body
are in the hands of the soul,
The entire direction is given to me."
Oh ! foolish one,
these are falsehoods
and delusions
That come
from an illusory
existence.
As your essence
is nothingness,
How can you
have Free-will ?
Seeing that
your being
is one with
not-being,
Whence comes
this Free-will
of yours ?
Imagination
distributes
actions
As in a play
or a farce,
For when
your actions
were planned,
Before your
existence,
You were
created for a
certain purpose,
By the desire
of the Truth.
Therefore
is man predestined,
before his existence,
To certain
appointed
work.
. . . (Oh,
wondrous
ways of Thine,
without how
or why I)
The honour
of man
consists
of slavery,
In having
no share
of Free-will.
Of himself
man has nothing,
Yet of
good and evil
God asks him,
Man has
no choice,
he is under
control.
Oh !
poor soul,
he seems free,
yet is a slave.
Give yourself
up to the Truth,
For you are
helpless
in his grasp ;
Freedom
from self
you will find
in the All,
And, O Dervish !
in the Truth
you will find
riches.
from the secret rose garden
💜💜💜
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