Your love took away my rosary and gave me poetry and song, I recited many prayers and repented, but my heart did not listen.
I became a poet because of love, clapping my hands, your love burned away my honor, shame, and everything I had.
I was chaste, devout, and steadfast like a mountain, but what mountain is there that your wind cannot blow away?
If I have a voice, it is from your call, and if I am all smoke, it is from your fire.
When I saw your existence, I became nothing out of shame; from this love, nothingness brought the world of the soul into being.
Wherever nothingness comes, existence diminishes; what a nothingness that, when it comes, increases existence.
The sky is dark and the earth like a blind wanderer; whoever sees your moon is freed from blindness and darkness.
Like a great soul hidden in the body of the world, like the example of Ahmad the Messenger among the infidels and Jews.
Praising you is truly praising oneself, as the sun praises its own eye.
Your praise is like the sea, our language is the ship, the traveler of the sea, and ultimately praiseworthy.
The sea's favor is like an awakened fortune for me; what do I care if my eyes are sleepy?