How fortunate is the one whom God calls yours

Enter, enter into felicity, God has opened your door

He who opens doors, the Opener of Doors

Who bestows provision and dwelling, 'We have truly sent down'

Who splits the seed and calls to the tree

'Raise your head high and scatter dates'

Who breathed life into that reed that was beneath the earth

Which became the mother of Shirin and Khusraw of sweetmeat

Who made gold and silver from the dust of that mine

Who made jewels from the water in a shell

You were freed from soul and body by the attraction of the beloved

You passed beyond the two bows' lengths by his attraction, 'nearer'

Your musician has become the sun, (saying) 'Arise, prostrate yourself'

Towards the cypress's stature, the call to prayer is from the tulip's hand

Why does the homa (royal bird) of the conscience fly so high?

It has heard a piercing cry from the Most High Lord

Shall I tell you why the blooming flower laughs?

Because its prayer from that spring has been answered

When the flower found the scent of the Joseph of meaning from its collar

It opened its mouth in laughter, (saying), 'Hey, O good tidings!'

The garden may say to the demon, 'Do whatever you wish'

By the glory of the just king, I fear no plunder

Since heaven and earth in his hand are less than an apple

If you steal my leaf, where will you take it, and where?

Since he is the meaning of the world, by the agreement of all

Where will the names go except to the service of the meaning?

The name became the manifestation of the meaning, 'You made me know'

And from the name, the vision of the gnostics found leisure

The speaker (Moses) is recognized by the knowledge of Aaron

Even if his staff is not there, nor his white hand

How should the sky not revolve around his roof and door?

Since the sun and moon derive their generosity from his light

When the Light called its Lord by name

Become the slave of the eye, for from the light, (God) created vision

I have passed over all this, hold your hand

For our intoxicated Joseph is swaying from behind that curtain

What place is there for hands? Reason and intellect are lost

For the cupbearer is the comforter of hearts, and his wine is captivating

Be silent, so that he himself may tell the explanation of this

For the brilliance and splendor are best when they come from above