1. The sun whose heart is that of the devout has risen
And it has the gazes as its sunset and hearing

2. It appeared to me when I contemplated
So lightning flashes and events flash

3. O dweller of the sacred unseen, a look
For a prisoner of passion with hopes that deceive

4. He is dead of separation, shrouded in remoteness
His ribs saluted with the fire of love

5. A face whose darkness was veiled by his existence
And over it a cobweb garment of patches

6. So if you turn to him, O moon of fervor
You would grace the places with your radiance

7. With your light the universes are shining so
No place is devoid of your brilliance and position

8. The secret is you and we are but a sign of you
A finger still points to you with all hearts

9. Our eyes are watchers of you and the feelings
Are ever infatuated with loving you

10. Our existence is you, not our personas
In body and soul we are torn apart

11. By the separation and union that are ours
I still differentiate in existence and unite

12. God is Great, these are the adornments of splendor
The beautiful face is apparent, radiating

13. None can attain it but the privileged
While the stranger hopes for distance

14. Do not be content with anything less than its beauty
For anything less cannot satisfy about it

15. It is lofty, it is brilliant, and for that
I called it “O lofty, O brilliant”

16. It is events in consideration of its existence
Other than existence, it defies attainment

17. All need it for without it they
Hasten to the realized oblivion

18. That light it is, and anything else is darkness
When it wants to be seen, it illuminates

19. It multiplied due to the multitude it sees in its affairs
And it has the highest position over all

20. It alone has no intention apart from it
The one and the even which has no intercession

21. Do not veil yourself from it by the multitude of its action
The action of the beautiful returns to the beautiful

22. We have signs while it has thereby
If it wills, it understands and the spring overflows

23. It guided its servant to the richness of its melody
Beyond anything else, and he is abject poverty

24. And whenever he tries to mention it, he is a nightingale
Articulating through its nesting, singing poetry

25. It is his safety, so he fears nothing
In both lifetimes, through it he trembles not