Shrukhs (verses) of Sheikh-ul-Alam

Awhile I feasted on the balmy dew,

Awhile I saw the blight of frost;

Awhile the black night darkened my view,

Awhile I saw the illuming dawn

Awhile I saw the stream a flow,

Awhile I saw not bridge nor bank;

Awhile I saw the bush in bloom,

Awhile I saw not rose nor thorn.

The crow caws me somber forebodings,

I see my wings drooping and falling,

My horse bogged in waters, my boat stranded on land,

To whom shall I transfer this heavy burden!

The burning passionate fire of youth

Fell to the fiery pomegranate fruit;

Satan kindled the haystack of my being

And like a thief I lost my way on the crossing.

The value of the pearl is known to the diver alone.

A beast can never learn to tread a slender causeway.

Can a burning piece of wood know the worth of a candle

And the fly appreciate the circumambulations of a moth?

Death is a tiger whom you can never flee;

It will pluck you out of the midst of a herd;

It is a potion that comes as the final cure;

If only I had realized this truth in time!

You merrily dance on the surface of the pit

Oh dear! How does your heart brook this?

You hoard and collect only to leave it back

How then can you relish your food and drink?

I came by the way and returned by the way

And night fell on me in the middle of the embankment.

I searched my pockets and found them empty;

Where shall I get the money to pay the ferry fee?

Spring is over and the thrush is mute;

My colorful nightingale is dumb.

Youth has faded and spurned the lure

Of candy, sweets and ghee.

You are mine, here as well as There,

Convert this heap of dust into a blooming flower-bed

I seek you leaving all aside,

Unveil your beauty and let me gaze.

Whomsoever you bless with grace

Time can never rob him of his gift,

And whosoever you deprive

Merit or birth can do him no good.

Feeble is my soul, feebler still my breath;

My reason unripe and all my faculties raw.

Your shelter, Lord, to this sinful soul,

And the will and strength to contemplate the truth.

As I experienced the One in my being;

Revelation dawned on all my pores;

Renouncing the illusions, I sought for the Real

And found myself with the Abodeless.

He is near me and I am near Him;

In His nearness is my heart’s comfort

In vain did I seek Him in alien lands;

My friend was ever in my own country.

Where is a heart so selfless and pure

That seeks you for your sake alone?

The driving motive of our worship, Lord,

Is the hope of heaven and the fear of hell.

Patience:

Frightful thunder and lightning;

Darkness in broad daylight;

Carrying a mountain on one’s shoulders;

Fondling fire in the palm of one’s hand;

Grinding one self to smithereens;

And tasting poison with a cheerful face.

Love Pangs:

The untimely death to a mother of her only son,

How can she know a moment of rest and peace?

Filling up one’s lap with a horde of stinging wasps.

How can one have a moment of comfort and ease?

To bare one’s breast to a keen and naked dagger

How can one outlive the mortal wound?

Mere scholarship leaves many men unenlightened and uninitiated;

Like asses they carry burden of books on them.

Those alone receive His grace and mercy

Who know the heart and control it.

Their bewitching appearance hides their hideous souls;

They ascend pulpits with a load of dark deeds.

Rumi alone was a true Mullah, if ever there was one

Else seek the shelter of Allah from a Mullah.

Like a spring lost amid wild rocks

You are a saint fallen among thieves.

Like an eagle lost in a crowd of crows

You are a pundit among unlettered boors.