First, He planted devotion in the heart,

Then this servant bowed his head at His threshold, a sacred start.

If from the Truth, no favor is sent,

How can anything from the servant to another be lent?

What do you see of the tongue, which gave its confession?

See who gave speech to the tongue, that precious expression.

In knowledge, the human eye holds sway,

It opens the heavens and the earth’s display.

What is understanding but a rise and fall,

If you did not open this, what would you call?

He raised His head, and from nothing, existence took hold,

In this generosity, He placed Himself, in that bowing, untold.

Otherwise, how did you come from the hand of generosity?

It’s impossible you came from the head of humility.

With wisdom, He gave the tongue and created the ear,

So that they might hold the key to the heart's sphere.

If not, the tongue would not carry the tale,

Who would know the heart’s story, without fail?

If you are not the spy of the ear’s intent,

How would news reach the Sultan of sense, where it went?

The sweet word, the reader gave to me,

To you, He gave the hearing and perception to see.

These two forever, like doormen stand,

Carrying news from one Sultan to another’s land.

What do you think of yourself, that your deeds are fine?

Look at that, it is His grace, divine.

The gardener led to the king's courtyard with grace,

Bringing a flower from the king’s garden in place.