Close both eyes to see with the other eye.
In comfort and abundance the Friend raised me. With vein and skin He tailored this ragged body. It's just a robe worn by a Sufi, the heart. The whole universe is a khaneqah1 and He is my Shaikh.
In the slaughterhouse of love, they kill only the best, none of the weak or deformed. Don't run away from this dying. Whoever's not killed for love is dead meat.
Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.
My head is bursting with the joy of the unknown. My heart is expanding a thousand fold.
The sky itself reels with Love.