Raise your words, not your voice.
I am the glorious sun, the ocean laden with pearls. Within my heart is the grandeur of heaven.
Your happy songs bring to me the scent of Heaven. Please keep singing!
The waterwheel accepts water and turns and gives it away, weeping.
When you have indulged a lust, your wing drops off; you become lame, abandoned by a fantasy. …People fancy they are enjoying themselves, but they are really tearing out their wings for the sake of an illusion.
I am not from east or west not up from the ground or out of the ocean my place is placeless a trace of the traceless I belong to the beloved