At this one point,all talk ends.
Hold tight to this point, forget your calculations,
Leave the miserable state of unbelief,
Do not torment yourself with the fear of death and hell,
For these are imaginary fears.
Only into such a house will the truth enter.
At this one point, all talk ends.
For no reason you abrade your forehead on the ground,
You display reverence at the mehraab,
You recite the Kalma to entertain a listener.
But knowledge does not enter your heart.
Can the truth ever remain hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.
Many return from Mecca as hajjis,
Blue shawls across their shoulders.
They profit from the merit earned by haj.
Who can admire such behavior?
Can the truth ever remain hidden?
At this one point, all talk ends.
Some withdraw to the forest,
Eat a single grain a day.
Bereft of understanding, they exhaust the body,
And return home in bad shape,
Their life sucked dry with useless fasting and prayer.
At this one point, all talk ends
Hold fast to your murshid
Become a devotee of all creation,
Intoxicated, carefree,
Without desire, indifferent to the world.
Let your heart be fully clean.
Bulla asks, can the truth then be stopped?
At this one point,all talk ends
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
..........life is not easy, as this poem reflects....an interesting write.....thanks for sharing...