Ode XLIV

O heart, why art thou a captive in the earth that is passing away?
Fly forth from this enclosure, since thou art a bird of the spiritual world.
Thou art a darling bosom-friend, thou art always behind the secret veil:
Why dost thou make thy dwelling-place in this perishable abode?
Regard thine own state, go forth and journey
From the prison of the Formal world to the meadow of Ideas.
Thou art a bird of the holy world, a boon-companion in the assembly of Love;
If thou wilt remain here, ’tis a pity.
Every morning a voice comes to thee from heaven:
‘When thou lay’st the dust of the way, thou win’st thy way to the goal.’
On the road to the Ka‘ba of union, lo, in every thorn-bush
Are thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.
Thousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not
A breath of the fragrance of union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.
In memory of the banquet of union, in yearning for his beauty
They are fallen bewildered by the wine thou knowest.
How sweet, in the hope of him, on the threshold of his abode,
For the sake of seeing his face, to bring night round to day!
Illumine thy bodily senses by the light of the soul:
The senses are the five prayers, but the heart is the seven verses.
The moon and the sun and the axis of the seven heavens are swallowed
By the Canopus of the soul, when it rises from towards the southern angle.
Look not in the world for bliss and fortune, since thou wilt not find them;
Seek bliss in both worlds by serving Him.
Put away the tale of love that travellers tell;
Do thou serve God with all thy might.
From the Sun who is the glory of Tabriz seek future bliss,
For he is a sun, possessing all kinds of knowledge, on the spiritual throne.