We hunger for the shards of light flashing from your eye;
May they wound our dark mind with brilliance until we die!
Who, if we cried, would hear us among the many gods?
The busy deities are such dull and slow-thinking clods.
One moment of your presence removes all spiritual doubt:
The sons and daughters of man stand and your praises shout!
We have no objection to the pious praying for us-
We are the proud scions of light illuminating dust!
Our lord and master is the beloved of lover’s lane;
We offer at his lovely feet all of our burning pain.
The candle flickering in the altar’s niche, is our spirit
Rising and prostrating with each inspired love-lyric.
Darvish has no thought or feeling left to shape into song:
The candle’s breath expires, and the flame to the Friend belongs.
