It is we who, like the tulip in the desert of Medina, Bear in our heart the scar of longing for Medina.
Passionate longing for Paradise may disappear from the wise man’s head, but It is not possible that the passionate longing for Medina should leave him.
The Tuba tree that has lifted its head on the apex of the Throne Is [only] a branch from the garden adorning palm tree of Medina.
When you eat dates, kiss their kernals, for The kernals of the dates of Medina are the beads of the angels rosary!
For years when i am in a moment of solitude; Your presence is felt; Many questions and answers are sought; But i dare not open my lips;
Is it your face or the morning light that dawns? Or the full moon in its perfection, that annihilates darkness? Or the sun in its exaltation during a cloudless day?
The radiance of your face is what one calls “Morning” The shade of your two tresses is where you say “Evening”
Nothing matters now; For me you are what my day and night rotate around; Whether i eat or drink, smile or cry, My day and night are never complete without the contemplation of your sight.
