I have a beloved whose love burns the entrails

If he wishes, he walks upon my eyes

The day is that when my sustenance is he

O how blessed is that day and that sustenance

What is it that he does that is not good?

We are pleased, may God do what he wishes

His thorn is the capital of flowers

Verily, he is the giver in unveiling the covering

Whatever you said or heard was husk

The core of love is not a secret that has spread

Who is satisfied with the shell of husks?

He who has a core, raised in manifestation

I silenced myself, but his grief did not silence

Protect us from the evil of the slanderer who has slandered