Strolling in the Celestial World

As only imagination was my fellow‐traveler My path happened to pass through the sky

I was flying constantly and no one Was acquainted with me in the sky

The stars were staring at me in surprise My journey was a well guarded secret

I escaped from the alternation of day and night I escaped from this ancient order of things

What can I tell you what Paradise is It is the climax of material longings

Birds were singing in the branches of Tubah Unabashed Houri’s beauty was present all around

Beautiful cup-bearers with wine-cups in hand The audience was crying drink more and more”

Far from the Paradise the eye observed There was a dark house, cold and silent

Countenance of Qais and Layla’s material form Were shoulder to shoulder with its darkness

It was so cold that being embarrassed by it The Arctic Circle was concealing its face

When I inquired about its condition The reply of the angel was strange

“This cold place is called Hell It is deprived of fire and light

The heat of its flames which is borrowed Terrifies the people seeking admonition

When the earth’s people come here They bring their embers with them”