(2) Exhaling, break within me the great fast Which a long season has in hunger held me, Not finding for it any food on earth. Well do I know, that if in heaven its mirror Justice Divine another realm doth make, Yours apprehends it not through any veil. You know how I attentively address me To listen; and you know what is the doubt That is in me so very old a fast." Even as a falcon, issuing from his hood, Doth move his head, and with his wings applaud him, Showing desire, and making himself fine, Saw I become that standard, which of lauds Was interwoven of the grace divine, With such songs as he knows who there rejoices. Then it began: "He who a compass turned On the world's outer verge, and who within it Devised so much occult and manifest, Could not the impress of his power so make On all the universe, as that his Word Should not remain in infinite excess. And this makes certain that the first proud being, Who was the paragon of every creature, By not awaiting light fell immature.

(4) A Sufi was sauntering leisurely along when he was struck from behind. He turned round and said to the rogue who had hit him: ' He whom you struck has been dead more than thirty years.' The rogue replied: 'How can a dead man speak? Be ashamed, you are not united to God. If you are separated from him even by one hair it is as if you were a hundred worlds away.'

i 26)

When you are reduced to ashes, including your baggage, you will have not the least feeling of existence; but if there remains to you, as to Jesus, only a simple needle, a hundred thieves will lie in wait for you on the road. Although Jesus had thrown down his baggage, the needle was still able to scratch his face.

When existence disappears, neither riches nor empire, honours nor dignity, have any meaning.