OH thou who hast put on me the robe of life and opened to me the door of mercy: in that which thou art we are and were: thou hast breathed into the dust the breath of life: thou gavest the gift of life and hast asked no thanks. Before thee kings are as beggars, and of thy abundance a Dervish is a king. O Mecca of all the world, oh holy place of all mankind; thy nature is the place of praise; thy presence is the house of prayer. We are thy slaves and thou art our master: wherever we are we stand in need of thee: in all our searchings we search for thee: in all our speech we speak of thee. Save thee we need naught else: what is beside thee? where is it and when is it? Have mercy, have mercy upon thy poor servant—he sighs and longs for thy perfection,* he seeks for thy purity. And his task is made hard by thy deceits and thy disguises, for they are marvellous and wondrous, O Lord. My heart is full of wonder at thy works. Make great that wonder, O Lord: not the wonder of them that have no understanding, but the wonder which the prophet prayed for. Make me thy friend by wonder, make me a mirror to show thy face. Make me free from the prison of “I and thee,” that with thy eyes I may see thee and be glad. When I gaze on this world of confusion draw me nigh to thy majesty. Make my soul single in the contemplation of the one and many; I am the moth and thou art the candle. In the world of colour and shape make steadfast my soul, that certain faith may become religion. I pray for a heart, a little heart, full of thee; a mirror for the brightness of thy glory.
Save thy likeness, O Lord, in this world of change, may I see no face within it; and when from this perishable world I haste to the eternal country, be thou my guide and companion, oh familiar friend of my longing soul. Keep me while I live among the followers of the true prophet, and in the resurrection may I stand beneath his banner!