Poem XLIV

1O heart, why art thou a captive in the earth that is passing away?Fly forth from this enclosure, since thou art a bird of the spiritual world.

2Thou art a darling bosom-friend, thou art always behind the secret veil:Why dost thou make thy dwelling-place in this perishable abode?

3Regard thine own state, go forth and journeyFrom the prison of the Formal world to the meadow of Ideas.

4Thou art a bird of the holy world, a boon-companion in the assembly of Love;If thou wilt remain here, ’tis a pity.

5Every morning a voice comes to thee from heaven:‘When thou lay’st the dust of the way, thou win’st thy way to the goal.’

6On the road to the Ka‘ba of union, lo, in every thorn-bushAre thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.

7Thousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came notA breath of the fragrance of union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.

8In memory of the banquet of union, in yearning for his beautyThey are fallen bewildered by the wine thou knowest.

9How sweet, in the hope of him, on the threshold of his abode,For the sake of seeing his face, to bring night round to day!

10Illumine thy bodily senses by the light of the soul:The senses are the five prayers, but the heart is the seven verses.

11The moon and the sun and the axis of the seven heavens are swallowedBy the Canopus of the soul, when it rises from towards the southern angle.

12Look not in the world for bliss and fortune, since thou wilt not find them;Seek bliss in both worlds by serving Him.