Every morning a voice comes to thee from heaven:
"When thou lay'st the dust of the way, thou win'st thy way to the goal."
On the road to the Ka'ba of Union, lo, in every thorn-bush
Are thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.
Thousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not
A breath of the fragrance of Union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.
"When thou lay'st the dust of the way, thou win'st thy way to the goal."
On the road to the Ka'ba of Union, lo, in every thorn-bush
Are thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives.
Thousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not
A breath of the fragrance of Union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.