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O you who've gone on pilgrimage - where are you, where, oh where? Here, here is the Beloved! Oh come now, come, oh come! Your friend, he is your neighbor, he is next to your wall - You, erring in the desert - what air of love is this? If you'd see the Beloved's form without any form - You are the house, the master, You are the Kaaba, you! . . . Where is a bunch of roses, if you would be this garden? Where, one soul's pearly essence when you're the Sea of God? That's true - and yet your troubles may turn to treasures rich - How sad that you yourself veil the treasure that is yours!**********************There is some kiss we want with our whole lives, the touch of Spirit on the body.Seawater begs the pearl to break its shell.And the lily, how passionately it needs some wild Darling!At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me.Close the language-door, and open the love-windowThe moon won't use the door, only the window.When the rose is gone and the garden faded you will no longer hear the nightingale's song. The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil. The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing. If love withholds its strengthening care, the lover is left like a bird without care, the lover is left like a bird without wings. How will I be awake and aware if the light of the Beloved is absent? Love wills that this Word be brought forthI’m drenched in the flood which has yet to comeI’m tied up in the prison which has yet to existNot having played the game of chess I’m already the checkmateNot having tasted a single cup of your wine I’m already drunkNot having entered the battlefieldI’m already wounded and slainI no longer know the difference between image and realityLike the shadow I amAndI am not