Khaneye doost kojast?

At the first light of the dawn

Asked the pilgrim: Do you happen to know the abode of The Beloved?

The skies went silent save their mourning clouds, save their falling stars.

The passer gave up his glowing twig to the gloom of the sands and replied:

Don’t you see that poplar tree? Well, right before the tree, There is lane that you’ll reckon, I deem. For it is greener than a heavenly dream. For it is generously shaded with the deep blues of love. Well, If you See.

So walk down that lane You’ll arrive to the garden of sense Turn to the direction of the loner lake Listen to the genuine hymn of leaves Watch the eternal fountain that flows from the spring of ancient myths till you faint away in a plain fear.

And when a rigid noise clatter into the fluid intimacy of space you'll find a child on the top of a tree, next to the nest of awls in hope of a golden egg. Well, if you See.

You may be sure; the child'll show you the way. Well, If you just ask about the abode of The Beloved.