A dervish was traveling with us in a caravan to Hejaz. One of the Arab emirs had given him a hundred dinars to sacrifice an animal. Suddenly, the Khafaja bandits attacked the caravan and stole everything. The merchants began to weep and wail and cry out in vain.

Whether you plead or cry out

The thief will not return the gold.

Except for that righteous dervish who remained steadfast and no change came over him. I said: Did the thief not take what belonged to you? He said: Yes, they took it, but I did not have such intimacy with it that I would be heartbroken at the time of separation.

One should not attach one's heart to things or people

For detaching the heart is a difficult task.

I said: What you said is appropriate for my condition, for in my youth I had the opportunity to associate with a young man and our friendship was so sincere that the beauty of his face was the direction of my gaze and the gain of my life's capital was union with him.

Except for angels in the sky, otherwise no human

Will be like him in the beauty of his face on earth.

By friendship, it is forbidden to have companionship after him

For no seed will produce a person like him.

Suddenly, his foot sank into the mud of death, and the smoke of separation rose from his family. I stayed near his grave for days, and among what I said about his separation was:

I wish that on the day when the thorn of death entered your foot

The hand of the world would have struck the sword of my destruction upon my head.

So that on this day my eyes would not see the world without you

Here I am at your grave with dust on my head.

The one who could find no rest or sleep

Until he first scattered roses and sweet basil.

The turning of the world scattered the flower of his face

Thorns grew upon his grave.

After his separation, I resolved and firmly intended to roll up the carpet of desire for the rest of my life and not to engage in gatherings.

The profit of the sea would be good if there were no fear of waves

The company of roses would be pleasant if there were no worry of thorns.

Last night, like a peacock, I prided myself in the garden of union

Today, from the separation of the beloved, I writhe like a snake.