Original content

English translation

Again the Answer of the Prophets (Peace Be Upon Them) to Them

The Prophets said: Despair is bad — The grace and mercies of the Lord are without limit.

From such a Benefactor, despair is unworthy; Clutch the saddle-strap of this mercy.

How many a matter that was hard at first Afterward opened up, and hardship passed away.

After despair there are many hopes; After darkness there are many suns.

Suppose I grant that you have grown hardened, That you have set locks upon your ears and hearts.

We have no concern with your acceptance; Our business is submission and obedience to command.

He has commanded us this servitude; This speaking is not from ourselves.

We hold our souls for His command; If He bids us sow in sand, we sow.

None but God is the companion of the prophet's soul; He has no concern with the acceptance or rejection of creatures.

The reward for conveying His messages comes from Him; We became ugly and enemy-faced for the sake of the Friend.

We are not wearied ones at this threshold, That we should halt anywhere along the road thereafter.

The one whose heart is constricted and weary Is he who is imprisoned in separation from the Beloved.

The Beloved and the Object of desire is present with us; The soul is grateful amid the gift-scattering of His mercy.

In our hearts is a field of tulips and a rose garden; There is no way in for old age and withering.

We are ever fresh and young and tender, New and sweet and laughing and refined.

To us, a hundred years and one hour are one, For length and brevity are severed from us.

That length and shortness belongs to bodies; Where is length and shortness in the soul?

Three hundred and nine years — for the People of the Cave (Aṣḥāb-i Kahf) It was one day, free of grief and distress.

And then it showed them one day more, When souls returned to the body from non-existence.

When there is neither day and night nor month and year, How can there be satiety, old age, or tedium?

In the garden of non-existence, since there is self-abandonment, The intoxication comes from the cup of divine grace.

"He who has not tasted does not know" (lam yadhūq lam yadri) — whoever has not drunk, How can a dung-beetle conceive of the fragrance of roses?

It is not imaginary; were it imaginary, It would have become non-existent, like imagined things.

How can Hell bring Paradise to mind? Does a fair face ever shine from an ugly pig?

Take heed — do not cut your own throat, O nobles; Such a morsel has reached all the way to your mouth.

We have carried difficult roads to their end; We have made the way easy for our own people.