Paint brush and pen in hand,
you wander the rug of gravity,
silenced by the Speech,
heart is the only canvas
upon which reality unfolds,

the visible phase of it
is but a remnant of these
marvels the soul beholds.
See, the lover matters not,
let the veil be lifted;

it is that divine show
that all secretly want!
Whether the lover
is unknown or renown,
why does it matter?

Do not focus on the one
who is lost in sacred intoxication,
look beyond his helpless form;
seek the object of his love,
the Cause of his immersion

and move your lips like angels
do during Fajr prayer,
draw closer to the Light
of all that exists and say:
Al hamdulillah ir Rabil Alamin!

copyrights 2007 Aida Toure


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