Original content

English translation

When the king saw the helplessness of those physicians, He ran barefoot toward the mosque.

He entered the mosque and came to the mihrab; The place of prostration was flooded with the king's tears.

When he came to himself from the whirlpool of fana, He opened his tongue sweetly in praise and supplication:

"O You, the least of Whose gifts is the kingdom of the world — What shall I say, since You know what is hidden?

O You Who are always the refuge of our need, Once again we have gone astray from the path.

Yet You have said: 'Though I know your secret, Still make it manifest upon your outward form.'"

When he raised a cry from the depths of his soul, The sea of mercy came to a boil.

In the midst of weeping, sleep snatched him away; In his dream he saw an old man show his face.

He said: "O King, glad tidings — your needs shall be granted. If a stranger comes to you tomorrow, he is from us.

When he comes, he is a skilled physician — Know him as true, for he is trustworthy and sincere.

In his treatment, behold the absolute sihr; In his temperament, behold the power of Haqq."

When that appointed time arrived and day came, The sun from the east became the star-burner.

The king was at the lookout, waiting, To see what had been hinted at.

He saw a person — virtuous, full of worth, A sun amid shadow.

He was approaching from afar like a crescent moon, At once nonexistent and existent, in the form of khayal.

Khayal is phantom-like within the soul — See a whole world running upon a khayal.

Their peace and their war are upon a khayal, And their glory and their shame are from a khayal.

Those khayalat that are the snare of the awliya Are the reflection of the moon-faced ones of God's garden.

The khayal the king had seen in sleep Was now becoming manifest in the face of the guest.

The king went forward himself in place of the chamberlains; He went out to meet that guest of the ghayb.

Both were seas that had learned the same swimming; Both souls joined together, stitched without stitching.

He said: "You were my beloved, not that one — But in the world, one thing arises from another.

O You who are Mustafa to me, I am as 'Umar — For your service I gird my loins."