In the deadly sweep Of every wave, A thousand dangers lie in wait.

He gave me heaven and earth, and assumed I'd be satisfied; Actually I was too embarrassed to argue. The spiritual seekers are tired, two or three at each stage of the path. The rest who have given up never knew your address at all. There are so many in this gathering who wish the candle well. But if the being of the candle is melting, what can the sorrow-sharers do?

Consumed by the agony of remembrance The remembrance of night's festive company The one remaining candle flickers and dies.

The drop grows happy by losing itself in the river.

This earth, burnished by hearing the name, is so certain of love,
that the sky bends unceasingly down, to greet its own light.

Whereas it is difficult for everything to work out easily, A man cannot even afford to be a human

The object of my worship lies beyond perceptions reach. For those who see, the Ka'ba is a compass, nothing more.