Someone sought the way of the renowned Karakhi,

Who established renown from the very first

I heard that a guest came to him,

Sick, near death, he could not stay still

His head with hair, and his face full of grace,

His soul hung by his hair, holding his place

That night, he threw himself down and placed a pillow,

His soul, gripped by cries and sorrow, followed

No sleep came to him, not a moment’s rest,

Nor did anyone sleep, for his cries were the test

You placed a troubled and harsh soul in strife,

It did not die, and with argument, took life

From his cries and wails, from his tossing and turning,

The people fled from him, their path returning

No one from the land of men stayed there,

Only the weak remained, the famous, beyond compare

I heard that at night, he didn’t sleep from service,

As men entreated him, he did as he promised with purpose

One night, sleep brought forth an army in his head,

How much could the man bear, not yet dead?

In an instant, his eyes finally closed in rest,

A wanderer, scattered, began to jest

Cursed be this impure and wretched kin,

Who bear names, yet lack honor within

Unclean beliefs, wrapped in spotless attire,

Deceptive, selling false piety to acquire

What does a drunkard’s bag know of sleep’s rest,

When the poor soul has closed its eyes to the test?

He spoke words of disbelief to the renowned,

‘Why did you sleep for a moment, without sound?’

The Sheikh took in this talk, from generosity he spoke,

Those in the sanctuary heard, his wisdom broke

One said, ‘In secret, did you hear what he claimed?’,

‘Did you hear the words of the weeping dervish, famed?’

Go now, take heed, and watch your own head,

Don’t burden others; let another die instead

Goodness and mercy have their own place,

But with the wicked, virtue is misplaced

Do not place the head of the lowly on a pillow,

Place the head of the harmful on a stone instead

Do not show kindness to the wicked, O fortunate one,

For in the salt of ignorance, no tree will grow strong

I do not say to disregard the people,

But do not waste your generosity on the heartless

Do not soften your character with the harsh,

For a dog’s back will not be rubbed like a cat’s

If you seek justice, be like a dog that knows its place,

With a nature more faithful than the ungrateful human race

Do not shower mercy upon the miser,

For what is written on ice will vanish with no trace

I have never seen such convolutions in anyone,

Do not show mercy to such a person, no one

She smiled and said, ‘O my dear companion,

Do not be troubled by the troubled words spoken

If in misfortune he cried out at me,

His misery, strangely, brought comfort to me

Such cruelty should not be heard,

For one who cannot rest from their turmoil

When you see yourself strong and content,

In gratitude, bear the burden of the weak and spent

If you are like a form of magic,

You will die, and your name will fade like the body’s bliss

And if you nurture the tree of kindness,

You will surely reap the fruits of a good name in time

Do you not see that in the land of Karkh, many graves lie,

But without a famous tomb, no fame will arise

By the fortune of some, heads were raised high,

Who cast away the crown of arrogance, reaching the sky

A man full of pride, a worshipper of wealth,

Does not know that true power lies in patience and health