Are you looking for me, O friend?
Not in gardens of fleeting bloom,
Not between the poles of thought,
But in the hush of love’s deep room,
In the abode of the beloved.
Wake up! Why do you go on sleeping?
The river is crossed, the veil is torn,
I burst into laughter—the fish are thirsty!
Yet they swim where they were born,
In the abode of the beloved.
Brother, I’ve seen time chewing slowly,
Grinding stones turn grain to dust,
Illusion, reality—scenes passing,
Knowing nothing, yet I still trust
In the abode of the beloved.
O servant, where dost thou seek me?
Not in temples, nor the sky—
But in the heart, the humbled beating,
Where love and longing intertwine
In the abode of the beloved.
I’ve burned my own house down,
Now I wander, bound by none.
You pluck your eyebrows, dressing in gold—
Yet your soul remains undone
In the abode of the beloved.
Oh friend, I love you—think this over.
The swan must fly, the cage must break.
Hang up the swing of love today!
Lose yourself—for love’s own sake
In the abode of the beloved.

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