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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