THE MANNER OF LOVE
The separation came and from the eyes took away the light,
If the friend does not treat cruelly what is the use of his friendship?
The dawn of the prosperous morning approached the night of which,
The unique Beloved for entering the sanctum gave us the permission.
The curer for my pain is that cruel rose-cheeked,
To me no doors of the monastery made open.
Eversince that I forgot myself,
To the temple I was led by the manner of love.
On the Resurrection Day when the good people are sent to paradise,
None of the lovers of the mystical path, will be.
If one day about the mystic and the wayfarer there is a word,
Make sure it will be futile.