Come, for the hand of fate
has shot an arrow and hit the mark;
it has placed the legend of Your beautiful face
upon every tongue.
What manner of riot was it
that called forth Your splendor? I do not know,
but it snatched the mystic from himself
and rendered the Sufi homeless.
Your flirtatious glance
has been a legend for ages;
it has caused an uproar
even among those familiar with You.
Through attraction, the firmament reflected
the agitation of the heart
in the dance of Unity and fervor
that it displayed.
How wondrous,
that at the marketplace of yearning
the expounder of love spoke of Your qualities,
leaving the people gathered there speechless!
I praise the skill of love’s hand:
with a single arrow from the bowstring
it stitched together
a hundred thousand hearts.
The source of the sun still
bestows light
from the radiance
that Your beauty cast upon the world.