| Thereupon the wise man ceased his discourse; | 665 |
| self-intoxicated, he broke away from the world— | |
| ecstasy and yearning snatched him out of his own hands. | |
| Then came into being, by the magic of divine vision— | |
| when it is present the motes become like Mount Sinai, | |
| without its presence there is nor light nor manifestation— | 660 |
| a delicate creature in the talisman of that night, | |
| a star shining upon that starless night. | |
| The hyacinth-curls of his two tresses reached his waist, | |
| mountains and foothills drew brilliance from his face. | |
| Wholly drowned in a drunken epiphany, | 665 |
| drunken without wine, he chanted melodiously. | |
| Before him the lantern of the imagination span around, | |
| full of wiles as the ancient sphere of heaven; | |
| in that lantern appeared a form of many hues, | |
| hawk pouncing on sparrow, panther seizing deer. | 670 |
| I said to Rumi, ‘You who know the secret, | |
| reveal the secret to your companion of little vision.’ | |
| He said, ‘This form like unto flashing silver | |
| was born in the thought of the holy God; | |
| impatiently, out of the joy of self- manifestation, | 675 |
| he came down into the dormitory of existence, | |
| like ourselves a wanderer, exile his portion— | |
| you are an exile, I am an exile, he is an exile. | |
| His rank is that of Gabriel, his name is Sarosh, | |
| he transports from sense, and restores to sense. | 680 |
| It was his dew that opened our bud, | |
| the fire of his breath kindled the dead ember. | |
| The poet’s plectrum striking the chords of the heart is of him, | |
| and it is he who rends the veil shrouding the Kaaba. | |
| Within his melody I have glimpsed an entire universe. | 685 |
| now take fire for a moment from his song.’ |