Classic Poem

Novice, hear me what I say
So shalt thou be purified
Whilst thou dost not tread the way,
Thou canst not be a guide.

Pride of the gazing school,
Lord of thy companions,
Mark, hear boy thou too shalt be
One day the sire of sons

Sleeping, eating, drinking,
The spark of love withstood,
Eat not, sleep not, love in thinking
Will come rushing like a flood.

A beam of the love of Allah
Once fall thy soul upon,
By God I know thou then wilt be
More brilliant than the sun.

As learned magians do,
Thy hand from brass withhold,
That thou in life true alchemist
May turn all stones to gold.

From thy footsole to thy head
A beam of God thou burnest,
So [ ]thout foot or head
To the hest of God thou turnest

Go leap into the waves,
And have no doubt or care,
And the flowing of the seven broad seas
Shall never wet thy hair.

If Allah's face on thee
Look down with love benign,
Who disbelieves that thou also
To his face turnest thine?

And though thy form & fortune
Were broken waste & void
Dream not of thy eternal root
A fibre is destroyed
Hafiz