Poem XXXI

1What is to be done, O Moslems? for I do not recognise myself.I am neither Christian, nor Jew, nor Gabr, nor Moslem.

2I am not of the East, nor of the West, nor of the land, nor of the sea;I am not of Nature’s mint, nor of the circling heavens.

3I am not of earth, nor of water, nor of air, nor of fire;I am not of the empyrean, nor of the dust, nor of existence, nor of entity.

4I am not of India, nor of China, nor of Bulgaria, nor of Saqsīn;I am not of the kingdom of ‘Irāqain, nor of the country of Khorāsān.

5I am not of this world, nor of the next, nor of Paradise, nor of Hell;I am not of Adam, nor of Eve, nor of Eden and Riẓwān.

6My place is the Placeless, my trace is the Traceless;’Tis neither body nor soul, for I belong to the soul of the Beloved.

7I have put duality away, I have seen that the two worlds are one;One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I call.

8He is the first, He is the last, He is the outward, He is the inward;I know none other except ‘Yā Hū’ and ‘Yā man Hū.’

9I am intoxicated with Love’s cup, the two worlds have passed out of my ken;I have no business save carouse and revelry.

10If once in my life I spent a moment without thee,From that time and from that hour I repent of my life.