San'ai's Spirit speaks from Heaven
I came to know the knower of good and bad by continence, I became alive and deep of sight by sublimation.
I mean that austerity which knows the way and beholds God with the light of the self.
It seeks la ilah within itself, uttering it beneath the sword.
Think of the inside and spin not around your body like women. Fling the ball on the ground like men.
Rulership in this world of water and clay, is bought by one drop of blood of the heart.
Believers under this azure sky live by ardour and regaling.
Know you not where from ardour and ecstasy arise? These are but rays shot from the sun of the Prophet.
You are alive so long as there is spirit in you. It is this that safeguards your faith.
Become aware of the secrets of your water and clay and then apply the alchemy of the heart to both comprising your physical system.
The art is the fountainhead of all power by the faith and faith is a miracle of miracles of espirit de corps.
Seek not faith in books, O you ignorant one! Knowledge and wisdom come from books but faith arises from the heart.
Bu Ali Sina knows only mere elements of the body; he knows not the ailments of the heart.
Cast away the sweet and bitter of Bu Ali, the cure of the heart lies with the men of heart.
The Prophet is an ocean with surging waves, arise and enclose this river in your channel.
You have for years twined around its shore, but not seen the buffets of its lashing waves.
Fling yourself in the river for a while so that the departed spirit should come back to the body.
O Muslims, tread not any path save that of God and despair not of His general mercy.
Leave off seclusion and seek manifestation. so that the earth should quake by your prostration.
I saw restless Nature the other day, that moving spirit of all that happens;
her eyes riveted on the good and bad of the universe, the hidden things unfolded to her sight.
I asked her what are you searching? in search of whose warp and woof?
She said: By the order of the gracious Lord, I am fashioning out a new Adam from the old earth.
She examined a pinch of dust in a hundred ways, turning over and over again, weighed and added to it.
At last she imparted the hue and lustre of a tulip and cast la ilah in its core.
Wait till you see another spring arise, more iridescent than the one bygone.
Every time your antagonist resorts to machinations so that you should not come by this vegetating season.
I keep my eyes on the inside of the rose branch, and have seen a stir therein.
We cannot prevent the tulips from blooming in the meadows, vales, mountains.
A man of sensitive type can hear the note that is still in the throat.