Khawaja piya said to the Beholder
Khawaja piya said to the beholder,
stop wrestling with the pigs
‘you will only get dirty’
yet the self kept wrestling with the mind
trying to cut the nafs
O! foolishness
with what swiftness the nightingale
approached the rose
to wound the heart
with grace
O! Fana
erasing the mind from the mind
O! Baqa
unerasable eyes
the wound is a blessing
the tears its joy
when Ilm and Ishq merge
there is only an eternal path and no ploy
walking in adab of love
let yourself be cut deepest
from the wound flows the light
blessed is the heart that pains
that cries in the beauty of sunrise
the mirror of truth is hidden
in the inevitable sorcery of mind
let yourself be cut deepest
and be one with the truth
only the heart that pains remembers
to pray with the truth
Ilm and Ishq cleanses the mirror
the torment unites the extremes
the string of heart pierces the nafs
when two worlds meet
in wilderness of the human heart
two is the mirage of water in the desert
there is only one
in the intimacy of the abysmal deep
your voice is the only friend
the clouds of deep
rains in the meadows of life
dancing with honeybees
O! Kindred Spirit
let yourself be cut deepest
from the wound flows the light
there is no meaning to a wrestling mind
why do you wrestle with the pigs?
O! Kindred Spirit
let yourself be cut deepest
from the wound flows the light
why do you wrestle with the mind?
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