If You Wish for the Beloved’s Presence

 

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Let the wine cup go around to reach me, O’ Saki,

And hear my tale of the Path of Love;

A Path that seemed so easy at first, so paved,

But then came its many ups and downs.

 

Lovers wake up hoping that the morning breeze

Will carry the Beloved’s musky scent on its ethereal wings;

And the mere thought of untangling those wavy black curls

Churns their hearts and makes them blissfully bleed.

 

Obey the guidance of the Magian’s Elder

And wash your prayer mat in red wine

Despite being forbidden in the faith of Islam;

Because Seekers more advanced on a journey so long

Take a timeless pause at such rest stops;

They know the Station, the Space, the State.

 

That Space, the Beloved’s Abode,

Is no safe haven to tarry and indulge,

With the Caravan Master ringing the camel bells oft and loud

Calling the wayfarers to rise up and get packed.

 

Crossing this whirlpool separating us, Beloved,

With fearsome waves lashing in darkness, Oh such fright,

That those resting leisurely at the shore, so happy and carefree,

Can’t even imagine in their unburdened lot.

 

Following my own ways and whims

Has brought me nothing but ill fame

How can something like this remain a secret

When it keeps going round and round?

 

If you wish for the Beloved’s Presence,

Do not be absent from Him,

And when you run into someone you fall in love with,

Leave the world, and close your eyes to it!