These false prophets Were never disciples themselves,
But they contrive to make disciples of others.
As an act of seeming benefaction,
But they swindle their disciples Of their money and belongings;
They fear not the wrath of God,
Crooked in their ways, they lose their footing.
In the slippery game of outward love,
Say Bahu: They will regret their doings on the day of judgement
Accursed is life in this world;
Twice as accursed are they who are attached to it.
Those who have not dedicated their lives to God,
Shall suffer the unrelenting blows of destiny.
Abominable is this sly world -
It can even prompt a father to kill his own son.
Those who have renounced this world,
Will enjoy the delights of the garden That is eternally in bloom.
I have, at last, grasped the beginning and the end:
I have seen the whole sectacle of past, present and future Pass before my eyes.
Within my heart are fourteen realms,
Chambers of light - ablaze With the profusion of God's light.
Those who have not realized God will wander,
Homeless in this world, destitute in the next.
But watch the lovers dance with ecstasy,
As they merge into the oneness of God.
Their eyes sleepless, their faces pale,
Lovers constantly sigh in grief.
What has become of these faces,
That once beamed with youth and vivacity?
Love is like musk that cannot stay hidden:
Its fragrance cannot but reveal its presence.
Only those who abide in realms beyond space,
Deserve to be called ‘faqir', O Bahu.
When the one Lord revealed himself to me,
I lost myself in him.
Now there is neither nearness nor union.
There is no longer a journey to undertake, No longer a destination to reach.
Love attachment, my body and soul,
And even the very limits of time and space Have all dropped from my consciousness.
My separate self has merged in the Whole:
In that, O Bahu, lies the secret of the unity that is God!
When, at the time of Creation,
God separated me from himself,
I heard him say: "Am I not your God?"
"Indeed you are," cried my soul, reassured. Since then has my heart flowered.
With the inner urge to return Home,
Giving me not a moment of calm here on earth.
May doom strike this world!
It robs souls on their way to God.
The world has never accepted his lovers;
They are persecuted and left to cry in pain.
My master has sown in my heart,
The jasmine of God's Name.
He has taught me how to captivate,
The heart of my charming Beloved.
He keeps me in his thoughts eternally,
He always makes me do his will.
He himself grants me his wisdom, O Bahu,
He himself moulds me into his own real Self.
My Master(Spiritual Guide) has planted in my heart,
The jasmine of Allah's Name.
Both my denial that the Creation is real And my embracing of God,
the only reality, Have nourished the seedling down to its core.
When the buds of mystery unfolded Into the blossoms of revelation,
My entire being was filled with God's Fragrance.
May the perfect Master Who planted this jasmine in my heart,
Be ever blessed, O Bahu!
The moment I realized the oneness of God,
the flame of his love shone within, to lead me on.
Constantly it burns in my heart with intense heat,
Revealing the mysteries along my path.
This fire of love burns inside me with no smoke,
Fueled by my intense longing for the Beloved.
Following the Royal Vein,* I found the Lord close by.
My love has brought me face to face with him.
You have read the name of God over and over,
You have stored the holy Qur'an in your memory,
But this has still not unveiled the hidden mystery.
Instead, your learning and scholarship,
Have sharpened your greed for worldly things.
None of the countless books you've read in your life,
Has destroyed your brutal ego.
Indeed, none but the Saints can kill this inner thief,
For it ravages the very house in which it lives.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem