Beyond the seven gardens

And the throne,

and the pedestal, shone forth,

the secret of Ihsan.

My sun was set ablaze,

the realms circled around me,

I was taken from myself.

The All-Merciful gave me to drink,

From this cup drank I

Neither time, nor place

Neither speech, nor silence.

Neither angel, nor human,

Grasps the meaning of my kind.

I am the Kaf of Ihsan,

I am the meaning of my holiness,

I am the sight of the blind,

I am the burier of the dead,

I am the door of goodpleasure

I am the spirit of intimacy.

I am the axial Pole among pillars,

For the Arabs, and the non-Arabs

I am the Judi of the age, where

Noah’s Ark came to rest.

On this day, and before I am the

wine within the jug,

In the realm of pure meaning,

and in the sensory realm.

Were that you knew, dear brethren,

The secret meaning of effacement!

I swear by the Criterion,

its ascending degrees of intimacy,

by the repeated seven verses of the Fatiha,

and by the Dome of the Rock:

that the light of faith,

is a glimmer of my sun.