Wild For Oneness 

By Saadi Shirazi

To love someone whose body is like yours,
made from water and from clay, will rob you
of your peace of mind and of your patience.
When you’re awake, his lovely dimpled cheeks
call your thoughts to them, and you can’t resist;
and when you sleep, his image binds your dreams.
In selfless love you lay your head so low 
at his feet that next to him the world means nothing; 
and when the gold you offer fails to move him,
gold and dust become the same for you.
No other beauty takes your breath away 
because his presence leaves no room for others. 
You say his dwelling place is in your eyes,
but if you fold your eyelids shut, you’ll see
he’s in your heart. You do not fear dishonor 
by another’s hand, nor do you have the will
to wait even a second for what you want.
If he asked you for your soul, you’d put it on your lips; 
and if he put his sword against your neck,
you’d bend to it willingly, eagerly.
Since love like this, that’s built on empty air
so controls your life, causing such trouble,
why are you surprised at those who walk
the Way, immersed as they are in Truth’s ocean?
Wild for oneness with God’s divine soul, 
they’re careless with the souls God gave them.
The thought of their Beloved wipes their thinking 
clean of the world. Focused solely on Truth,
the world is what they run from, so drunk
with what the Cupbearer has poured for them
that they spill the wine. Don’t treat them medically; 
they’ve not been told correctly why they suffer.
With God’s great “Am I not your Lord?” ringing 
always in their ears, always they cry out,
“We bear witness!” Forever active, they sit
alone nonetheless. Dust covers their feet;
their breath is fire. If they roar as one,
they can remove a mountain from its place;
a single sigh from them will raze a city.
Like the wind, they’re hidden from your sight,
but their nimble movements move the world around 
     you.
Mute as stones, still they sing the tasbih.
At sunrise, they cry with such deep fervor
that their tears wash sleep’s kohl from their eyes.
They ride so hard at night, their horses die;
then, at dawn, they complain they’ve been abandoned. 
Day and night, the sea of passion and flame
buffets them till they can’t tell night from day.
The Artist’s beauty so seduces them
that they ignore the beauty of the art.
Men of heart don’t give their hearts to outer form, 
and the foolish who do miss the inner essence.
Only one who leaves this world behind
and forgets the next, sips the wine of God’s oneness. 

By Saadi Shirazi, translated by Richard Jeffrey Newman in Selections from Saadi’s Bustan

(Global Scholarly Publications, 2006)