What can I do, Muslims? I do not know myself. I am neither Christian nor Jew, neither Magian nor Muslim, I am not from east or west, not from land or sea, not from the shafts of nature nor from the spheres of the firmament, I am not from India, not from China, not from Bulgar, not from Saqsin, not from the realm of the two Iraqs, not from the land of Khurasan. My trace is traceless, my place is placeless, no body, no soul, I am from the soul of souls. I have chased out duality, lived the two worlds as one. One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call. If one day in my life I spend a moment without you O Shams-i Tabriz, I am so tipsy here in this world, I have no tale to tell but tipsiness and rapture. The Man of God is drunken without wine, The man of God is full without meat. The man of God is distraught and bewildered, The man of God has no food or sleep. The man of God is a king “neath dervish-cloak, The man of God is a treasure in a ruin. The man of God is not of air and earth, The man of God is not of fire and water. The man of God is a boundless sea, The man of God rains pearls without a cloud. The man of God has hundred moons and skies, The man of God has hundred suns. The man of God is made wise by the Truth, The man of God is not learned from book. The man of God is beyond infidelity and religion, To the man of God right and wrong are alike. The man of God has ridden away from Not-being, The man of God is gloriously attended. The man of God is concealed, Shams-i Deen; The man of God do you seek and find! Every Moment, He arrives in a beautiful sculpture;
conquer heart & disappears. Every Moment, that beloved appears in new dress;
Sometimes became young, sometimes old.