(1) A loved one said to her lover to try him, Early one morning, "O such an one, son of such an one, I marvel whether you hold me more dear, Or yourself; tell me truly, O ardent suitor!" He answered, "I am so entirely absorbed in you, Of my own existence nothing but the name remains In my being is nothing besides you, O Object of desire! Therefore am I thus lost in you, Just as vinegar is absorbed in honey; Or as a stone, which is changed into a pure ruby, In that stone its own properties abide not

(1) A true lover is proved such by his pain of heart; The lover's ailment is different from all ailments; Love is the astrolabe of God's mysteries. A lover may hanker after this love or that love, However much we describe and explain love, Explanation by the tongue makes most things clear, When pen hasted to write, When the discourse touched on the matter of love, In explaining it Reason sticks fast, as an ass in mire; Naught but Love itself can explain love and lovers!

(11) Through love the dead rise to life, Even when an evil befalls you, have due regard; The sight which regards the ebb and flow of good and ill Thence you see the one state moves you into the other, So long as you experience not fears after joys, How can you look for pleasures after disgusts? While ye fear the doom of the angel on the left hand, May you gain two wings! A fowl with only one wing Is impotent to fly, O well-intentioned one!

(31) But since Thence come the beauty and light in all, it is Thence that Intellectual-Principle took the brilliance of the Intellectual Energy which flashed Nature into being; Thence soul took power towards life, in virtue of that fuller life streaming into it. Intellectual-Principle was raised thus to that Supreme and remains with it, happy in that presence. Soul too, that soul which as possessing knowledge and vision was capable, clung to what it saw; and as its vision so its rapture; it saw and was stricken; but having in itself something of that principle it felt its kinship and was moved to longing like those stirred by the image of the beloved to desire of the veritable presence. Lovers here mould themselves to the beloved; they seek to increase their attraction of person and their likeness of mind; they are unwilling to fall short in moral quality or in other graces lest they be distasteful to those possessing such merit- and only among such can true love be. In the same way the soul loves the Supreme Good, from its very beginnings stirred by it to love. The soul which has never strayed from this love waits for no reminding from the beauty of our world: holding that love- perhaps unawares- it is ever in quest, and, in its longing to be borne Thither, passes over what is lovely here and with one glance at the beauty of the universe dismisses all; for it sees that all is put together of flesh and Matter, befouled by its housing, made fragmentary by corporal extension, not the Authentic Beauty which could never venture into the mud of body to be soiled, annulled.

By only noting the flux of things it knows at once that from elsewhere comes the beauty that floats upon them and so it is urged Thither, passionate in pursuit of what it loves: never- unless someone robs it of that love- never giving up till it attain.

There indeed all it saw was beautiful and veritable; it grew in strength by being thus filled with the life of the True; itself becoming veritable Being and attaining veritable knowledge, it enters by that neighbouring into conscious possession of what it has long been seeking.

(41) O Iover, 'twas love that gave life to Mount Sinai, When "it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon." Did my Beloved only touch me with his lips, I too, like the flute, would burst out in melody. But he who is parted from them that speak his tongue, Though he possess a hundred voices, is perforce dumb. When the rose has faded and the garden is withered, The BELOVED is all in all, the lover only veils Him; The BELOVED is all that lives, the lover a dead thing.

(82) But the lover's love makes his body lean, While the beloved's love makes hers fair and lusty. When in this heart the lightning spark of love arises, When the love of God arises in thy heart, The noise of clapping of hands is never heard From one of thy hands unaided by the other hand The man athirst cries, "Where is delicious water?" Water too cries, "Where is the water-drinker?" This thirst in my soul is the attraction of the water; I am the water's and the water is mine.

(72) In a fit state to see the vision of Thyself? When our hearts are bewitched by Thy smiles and frowns, Can we gain life from these two alternating states? The fertile garden of love, as it is boundless, The true lover is exalted above these two states, He is fresh and green independently of autumn or spring! Pay tithe on Thy beauty, O Beauteous One! Tell forth the tale of the Beloved, every whit! For through coquetry His glances I gave Him leave to shed my blood, if He willed it;

(92) If there be one who is a true man in these two states, I will yield up my life for him this day!" The other, who was a fatalist, said, "What you seek is rare. But you are ignorant of the force of the divine decree; You see the branches, but ignore the root. We men are but branches, God's eternal decree the root. That decree turns from its course the revolving sky, It reduces to helplessness the world of devices; O you who attribute stability to these steps on the road, You are one of the raw ones; yea, raw, raw!

A lover was once admitted to the presence of his mistress, but, instead of embracing her, he pulled out a paper of sonnets and read them to her, describing her perfections and charms and his own love towards her at length. His mistress said to him, "You are now in my presence, and these lover's sighs and invocations are a waste of time. It is not the part of a true lover to waste his time in this way. It shows that I am not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures. I see, as it were, the water which I have longed for before me, and yet you withhold it. I am, as it were, in Bulgaria, and the object of your love is in Cathay. One who is really loved is the single object of her lover, the Alpha and Omega of his desires. As for you, you are wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings, instead of being wrapped up in me." The true mystic must not stop at mere subjective religious emotions, but seek absolute union with God.

(211) That men may not see the bloom of the one and the other's shame, True, the Gardener knows the difference even in autumn, But the sight of One is better than the world's sight. That One Person is Himself the world, as He is the sun, That One Person is Himself the world, and the rest Are all His dependents and parasites, O man! He is the perfect world, yet He is single; Wherefore all forms and colours of beauty cry out, " Good news! good news! Lo! the spring is at hand!" If the blossoms did not shine as bright helmets,

(1) An end had put unto his reasoning The lofty Teacher, and attent was looking Into my face, if I appeared content; And I, whom a new thirst still goaded on, Without was mute, and said within: "Perchance The too much questioning I make annoys him." But that true Father, who had comprehended The timid wish, that opened not itself, By speaking gave me hardihood to speak. Whence I: "My sight is, Master, vivified So in thy light, that clearly I discern Whate'er thy speech importeth or describes. Therefore I thee entreat, sweet Father dear, To teach me love, to which thou dost refer Every good action and its contrary." "Direct," he said, "towards me the keen eyes Of intellect, and clear will be to thee The error of the blind, who would be leaders. The soul, which is created apt to love, Is mobile unto everything that pleases, Soon as by pleasure she is waked to action. Your apprehension from some real thing An image draws, and in yourselves displays it So that it makes the soul turn unto it.

(21) And then he will laugh at his own former state Saying, " What mattered my experiences when asleep? When I had forgotten my prosperous condition, And knew not that the grief and ills I experienced Were the effect of sleep and illusion and fancy? In like manner this world, which is only a dream. Seems to the sleeper as a thing enduring for ever But when the morn of the last day shall dawn, The sleeper will escape from the cloud of illusion; Laughter will overpower him at his own fancied grieves

(7) Now the rational soul in man abounds in marvels, both of knowledge and power. By means of it he masters arts and sciences, can pass in a flash from earth to heaven and back again, can map out the skies and measure the distances between the stars. By it also he can draw the fish from the sea and the birds from the air, and can subdue to his service animals like the elephant, the camel, and the horse. His five senses are like five doors opening on the external world; but, more wonderful than this, his heart has a window which opens on the unseen world of spirits. In the state of sleep, when the avenues of the senses are closed, this window is opened and man receives impressions from the unseen world and sometimes fore-shadowings of the future. His heart is then like a mirror which reflects what is pictured in the Tablet of Fate. But, even in sleep, thoughts of worldly things dull this mirror, so that the impression it receives are not clear. After death, however, such thoughts vanish and things are seen in their naked reality, and the saying

(50) When the lover feels no longer LOVE's quickening, He becomes like a bird who has lost its wings. Alas! How can I retain my senses about me, When the BELOVED shows not the light of His countenance? LOVE desires that this secret should be revealed, For if a mirror reflects not, of what use is it? Knowest thou why thy mirror reflects not? If it were purified from all rust and defilement, O friends, ye have now heard this tale,

(6) And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery, and that thy Teacher knows. But, if to recognise the earliest root Of love in us thou hast so great desire, I will do even as he who weeps and speaks. One day we reading were for our delight Of Launcelot, how Love did him enthral. Alone we were and without any fear. Full many a time our eyes together drew That reading, and drove the colour from our faces; But one point only was it that o'ercame us. When as we read of the much-longed-for smile Being by such a noble lover kissed, This one, who ne'er from me shall be divided, Kissed me upon the mouth all palpitating. Galeotto was the book and he who wrote it. That day no farther did we read therein." And all the while one spirit uttered this, The other one did weep so, that, for pity, I swooned away as if I had been dying, And fell, even as a dead body falls.

(5) For of a righteous will his own is made. He, sooth to say, for three months past has taken Whoever wished to enter with all peace; Whence I, who now had turned unto that shore Where salt the waters of the Tiber grow, Benignantly by him have been received. Unto that outlet now his wing is pointed, Because for evermore assemble there Those who tow'rds Acheron do not descend." And I: "If some new law take not from thee Memory or practice of the song of love, Which used to quiet in me all my longings, Thee may it please to comfort therewithal Somewhat this soul of mine, that with its body Hitherward coming is so much distressed." "Love, that within my mind discourses with me," Forthwith began he so melodiously, The melody within me still is sounding. My Master, and myself, and all that people Which with him were, appeared as satisfied As if naught else might touch the mind of any. We all of us were moveless and attentive Unto his notes; and lo! the grave old man, Exclaiming: "What is this, ye laggard spirits?

(1) Through love bitter things seem sweet, Through love dregs taste like pure wine, Through love thorns become roses, Through love the stake becomes a throne, Through love a prison seems a rose bower, Through love burning fire is pleasing light, Through love hard stones become soft as butter, Through love grief is as joy, Through love stings are as honey, Through love sickness is health,

(19) As, then, in war the soldier must not leave the post which the commander has assigned him, so neither must we desert the post assigned by the Word, whom we have received as the guide of knowledge and of life. But the most have not even inquired, if there is one that we ought to follow, and who this is, and how lie is to be followed. For as is the Word, such also must the believer's life be, so as to be able to follow God, who brings all things to end from the beginning by the right course.

(16) source of peace and joy to others will be to him a source of misery. He, in whose heart the love of God has prevailed over all else, will derive more joy from this vision than he in whose heart it has not so prevailed; just as in the case of two men with equally powerful eyesight, gazing on a beautiful face, he who already loves the possessor of that face will rejoice in beholding it more than he who does not. For perfect happiness mere knowledge is not enough, unaccompanied by love, and the love of God cannot take possession of a man's heart till it be purified from love of the world, which purification can only be effected by abstinence and austerity. While he is in this world a man's condition with regard to the Vision of God is like that of a lover who should see his beloved's face in the twilight, while his clothes are infested with hornets and scorpions, which continually, torment him. But should the sun arise and reveal his beloved's face in all its beauty, and the noxious vermin leave off molesting him, then the lover's joy will be like that of God's servant, who, released from the twilight and the tormenting trials of this world, beholds Him without a veil.

(6) My Leader, who could see me bear myself Like to a man that rouses him from sleep, Exclaimed: "What ails thee, that thou canst not stand? But hast been coming more than half a league Veiling thine eyes, and with thy legs entangled, In guise of one whom wine or sleep subdues?" "O my sweet Father, if thou listen to me, I'll tell thee," said I, "what appeared to me, When thus from me my legs were ta'en away." And he: "If thou shouldst have a hundred masks Upon thy face, from me would not be shut Thy cogitations, howsoever small. What thou hast seen was that thou mayst not fail To ope thy heart unto the waters of peace, Which from the eternal fountain are diffused.