NO way of joy and ease is mine to tread, |
The road of shame and madness joyfully I choose instead; |
And from my heart such streams of blood shall pour |
Upon the Day of Judgment, that the Desert crimsoned o’er |
Shall all the rosy hues of heaven outvie, |
And Paradise be darkened, envious of its flaming dye. |
If, penitent, I shed one tear of shame, |
Then shall be cleansed the follies and the sins that stained my name; |
For God shall show compassion in that day, |
My record of transgressions shall be wholly swept away. |
The tree of World’s Desire has set its roots |
Deep planted in the darkness; sin and shame its bitter fruits; |
Then barter not the wealth contentment brings |
For all the wide dominions of a thousand mighty kings. |
If from my heart I loose my heavy sighs |
Black whirling from the Desert shall the blinding dust arise. |
Though, Makhfi, God shall pardon at the last, |
The Skirt of Intercession hold within thy fingers fast. |