In the name of the Lord, Creator of life

The Wise One who created speech and expression

The Lord who is generous and supportive

Gracious, forgiving, and accepting of apologies

The Beloved from whose door whoever turns away

Will find no honor at any other door

The heads of proud kings

Bow in need at His threshold

He neither hastily seizes the defiant

Nor unjustly drives away those who seek forgiveness

And if He becomes angry at ugly deeds

When one returns repentant, He forgives the past

If someone seeks conflict with their father

The father will surely become very angry

And if a relative is not satisfied with their kin

They will drive them away like strangers

If a servant is not quick in their work

The master will not hold them dear

If you are not kind to your friends

Friends will flee from you for miles

If a soldier abandons their service

The warrior king will disown them

But the Lord of high and low

Never closes the door of sustenance due to disobedience

Both worlds are but a drop from His ocean of knowledge

He sees sin yet covers it with forbearance

The surface of Earth is His universal tablecloth

At this feast of plenty, friend and foe are equal

If He were to hasten against the cruel

Who could find safety from His wrath?

His essence is free from accusations of opposition and kind

His kingdom is rich without the worship of jinn and mankind

Everything and everyone serves His command

Humans, birds, ants, and flies alike

He spreads His feast of generosity so wide

That even the Simorgh in Mount Qaf receives its share

The Gentle One, spreader of grace, the Problem-solver

Who owns creation and knows all secrets

Pride and greatness befit only Him

Whose kingdom is eternal and essence self-sufficient

To one He places the crown of fortune on their head

Another He brings down from the throne to dust

The cap of happiness on one's head

The cloak of misery on another's shoulders

He turns fire into a garden for Abraham

While others He drowns in the waters of the Nile

If it's that, it's His decree of kindness

And if this, it's the seal of His command

Behind the veil He sees evil deeds

Yet He Himself covers them with His grace

If in warning He draws the sword of judgment

Even the angels become deaf and mute

And if He issues one call of generosity

Even Satan says 'Let me have a share'

At the threshold of His grace and greatness

The great ones have laid aside their greatness

Near in mercy to the helpless

Answering those who pray in humility

His knowledge sees what has not yet come to be

His grace knows the secrets yet unspoken

By His power, He maintains both heights and slopes

Lord of the court on the Day of Reckoning

No one can turn away independent of His worship

None can point a finger at His word

The Eternal One who loves goodness

Who designs in the womb with the pen of fate

From east to west, the moon and sun

He set in motion and placed the world upon water

When the earth was weary from trembling

He drove the nails of mountains into its skirts

He gives the seed a form like a fairy

Who else has painted such images on water?

He places ruby and turquoise in the heart of stone

And ruby-colored flowers on turquoise-hued branches

He casts a drop from the cloud toward the sea

And places a seed in the womb from the loins

From that drop He makes a brilliant pearl

And from this, He creates a tall cypress-like form

Not a single particle is hidden from His knowledge

For visible and hidden are the same to Him

No bird of imagination can fly to the heights of His essence

No hand of understanding can reach the hem of His description

In this whirlpool a thousand ships have sunk

With not a single plank washing up on shore

How many nights I sat lost in this journey

Until bewilderment tugged at my sleeve saying 'Rise!'

The King's knowledge encompasses all existence

Your analogy cannot encompass Him

No understanding has reached His true essence

No thought has fathomed the depth of His attributes

One might reach Sahban in eloquence

But none can reach the essence of the Incomparable Holy One

For the elect have ridden their steeds on this path

Yet stopped at 'I cannot count Your praises'

Not everywhere can one gallop their steed

Some places require surrendering one's shield

Don't imagine, Saadi, that the path of purity

Can be traveled except by following Mustafa