O Soul,
You are the Phoenix
rising up from the ashes of Union.
Why don’t you fly?—
No one knows you on the ground.
You are the heart’s sweetness
And by some magical power
your form ravishes a thousand hearts.
For a time you took form in the body.
For a time you passed beyond the heavens
and the bonds of both worlds.
Why can’t the spirit find you?—
You are its wings and its feathers.
Why can’t the eye see you?—
You are the source of its sight.
What will happen to your copper soul
when the Alchemist arrives?—
Will it not become gold?
What will become of your little seed
when the Springtime arrives?—
Will it not become a towering tree?
What will happen to brushwood
when it falls into fire?—
Will it not change into sparks and rise to heaven?
Reason and intellect
Are like the dim light of distant stars.
You are the bright Sun
that shines through every veil.
The world is nothing but snow and ice.
You are the burning heat of Summer.
O King, no trace of this world remains
the moment you arrive!
Who can sit by your side?
Everyone would vanish with one glance of yours.
O blessed eyes!
I have seen something beyond imagination,
unreachable by fortune or human effort—
I have seen the perfect face
of Shams-e Tabriz.
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