You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.
Everyone, whether he is self-denying or self-indulgent, is seeking after the Beloved. Every place may be the shrine of love, whether it be mosque or synagogue.
Woe to the dupe that yields to Fate!
Let tenderness pour from your eyes, the way sun gazes warmly on earth.
One regret dear world, that I am determined not to have when I am lying on my deathbed is that I did not kiss you enough.
Do not surrender your grief so quickly Let it cut more deeply Let it ferment and season you As few human or divine ingredients can Something is missing in my heart tonight That has made my eyes so soft And my voice so tender And my need of God so absolutely clear.