On the path to the Winehouse, the fate of those who run
Is the same as the pilgrims on the road to Mecca.
When i was separated from You, I closed my eyes to the world;
But hope of our union has given back my life.
From now on, I’ll go to no one else’s door,
For You are the only one I want to see.
I have given up my fortune and have learned to pray,
And now I can talk to You both night and day.
O Friends, my desire for the beloved is like the wolf who howls at the moon;
Be quiet! Insolent fool! and burn like a candle if doubt or violence ever come your way.
O heart, don’t walk away from the problems of life:
To the traveller, walking uphill and downhill are both part of the path.
What is there to gain from the wind that brings us only bad news,
When in this garden not even the trunk of the straight cypress gives that tree strength?
In this world of illusion, take nothing other then this cup of drink from the beloveds tavern-
In this playhouse, don’t play any game but love.
Even though the beloved’s beauty is beyond love,
I’m not going to turn my back on love’s game.
With this burning heart, how can i tell you what it is I see?
Go ask my tears, for they are honest and without sin.
Even though we are all taken in by beautys gaze,
Neither the movie star nor the Wall street whiz can give us what we need.
If we write poems for the lovers of God,
Not even the voice of Venus could bring down lightning from the Sky!
