There is nothing but warmth
In this soul of mine, O Beloved.
A breeze interrupts me while I speak
Through my heart, understanding peace.
This cave around my skull captains
Pleasures and aromas of the heavens and earth.
My mind shall be nothing,
Nothing shall be my mind,
As needles pant over my soul,
When do we see our Beloved speak?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem