Another bird said to the hoopoe: “So long as I live, the love of God, eternal, will be dear and pleasing to me. Separated from all, I dwell far from all, yet I do not abandon the thought of loving this mysterious Being. I have seen all the creatures of the world, and, far from becoming attached to any one of them, I have detached myself from them all. The madness of love alone possesses me and suffices me. Such madness is not suited to everyone. I devote my soul to the love of this friend; yet my quest is in vain. The time has come when I must draw a line through my life, so that I may share the cup of wine of my beloved. Then I shall illumine the eye of my heart with His beauty, and my hand shall touch His neck as a pledge of union.”
“It is neither by pretensions nor by boastings,” replied the hoopoe, “that one can become a guest of the Simurgh in the Caucasus. Do not vaunt so greatly and so profusely the love you believe you feel for Him, for it is not granted to everyone to possess it. The wind of happiness must rise to lift the veil from the face of this mystery. Then the Simurgh will draw you into His path, and He will make you sit alone in His harem. If you aspire to go to that sacred place, do not forget that your chief concern must be to attain the meaning of spiritual things; for your love for the Simurgh would be naught but a torment without reciprocation. For your happiness, the Simurgh Himself must love you.”