Post on 28-Mar-2015
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O Beloved, whose Love gives arms and wingsTo the flyers in the sky of happiness And makes them go higher and higher, Different ecstasies come to the spiritual person Through Your chains of Love. "I don't like anything to set."  Those words are devoid of appearances. Forms and shapes from You Are seen every moment By those eyes that see hidden things. Hearts are upside down because of You. The earth has turned into a sea of blood. I cannot call You "Moon," O Beloved, Who has been above the moon, above time. The mountain is split open with Your grief, And that grief falls down to the bottom To blaze with glittering flames. All these favors, all these beauties Have grown and developed Because they acquired a drop of blood From Your favor and Grace. O the support and confidence of all great men, Consider us among them. As You know, tails will follow heads. You have created such a great man out of dust That all the angels are jealous. The Soul is penniless compared to Your wealth. All goods and fortune fall to the ground underfoot. A person reaches the height of the sky If You become his arms and wings. That person carries the sign of beauty on his face And becomes more and more beautiful. Assume I'm a thorn, a bad one. But the thorn and rose go together. When a jeweler weighs gold, He puts barley as a weight
On the other side of the scale. Actions go with ideas; Goods come from the earth. This situation appears in words; The words are the sign of situations. The beginning of the universe Is confusion, tumult. The end is a shake and a quake. Love and gratitude are the same as complaints. Peace and comfort go hand-in-hand With jolts and shakes. Dawn is the decree of the sun. Love of God, the Sultan's monogram, And "the time of Union has come now:" Love is interpreted this way. Look at the One Who is the compassion of the universe.  Look at how He uplifts, gives status to the poor. Mantles are as bright as the moon. Shawls smell like roses. Love is the whole thing. We are only pieces. Love is the sea of no end. We are a drop of it. He brings forth hundreds of proofs. We can find our way only through them. The sky turns only with Love. Without Love, even the stars Are eclipsed, extinguished. With Love, hunched back dal  become elif.  Once elif loses Love, it turns into dal. The word is the Fountain of Life, Because it originates From the Love of the knowledge Of the real truth of things. Don't keep Love away from your Soul, So that your good deeds may bear fruit And keep growing. The word is enough, even if it is scarce, For the one who understands its meaning, But it is never enough for the one
Who sees only appearances. To him, the words are weak and pale. It doesn't matter If too many poems have been said. Wouldn't it be better If the sea were full of pearls? The camel can keep going stage by stage With the pleasure derived from poems.
That hodja's feet got stuck in the mudIn our neighborhood. Let me tell you his story. Do you remember the proverb, "The eye becomes blind when fate comes?" He used to boast cruelly, Tuck up his trousers So they wouldn't touch the ground. He used to walk pompously. He made fun of Lovers And used to accept Love as a plaything or toy. There are so many birds unaware of the trap, Flying without knowing that an arrow of trouble Is coming from the hand of fate. That man was also dead drunk, Passed out of himself, Clapping his hands, making fun of Lovers, And, with the illusion of his greatness, He attempted to wrestle with God. He wasn't aware of what was coming to him. He used to raise his head to the sky. Gold and silver were in his pockets. Bravo, bravo sounded in his ears. He was exalted by the people's applause, By those who knelt down in front of him, By those poets who praised him And gave foolish talks.
Nobility has its own disaster, Because kindness appears as greatness in man. The ones who fawn create illusion And make the person ill. Hodja gave money thinking he was doing favors. Actually, he didn't create that money. How could someone be generous With someone else's money? He turned into a pharaoh and a Sheddad. He became a sack filled with air. He was an ant, then changed into a snake, And finally into a dragon. Love is like the staff of Moses. With the Divine secret, Love threw an arrow from ambush. Our hodja was bent like a bow From the wound of that arrow. He fell suddenly to the ground Like a man with a seizure, Started growling and convulsing. He lost everything, Became naked and disreputable. Even his enemies felt sorry for him. His relatives cried As if there were a death in the family. He was turned into a pharaoh like Nemrud. Really, he kept saying, "I am God." When his neck was broken, He realized his state And started crying and calling out, "O our God, O our God." His face became pale like saffron. He had no wound but the one opened By the eyes of a beautiful face with sugar lips. Shall we be more amazed By the arrow of that beauty or by her bow? Are her eyes more beautiful than her lips? Is she more disloyal than the world? Is she more concealed, or is the phoenix?
Let me tell you the secret of how to test Lovers. Come back to your senses, free yourself From this secret lock and chain. Open your ears. Listen. But how can a person open his ears If he's out of himself And doesn't know where his ears are? "God does whatever He desires" [1O] Is the only rule that restores the mind. Hodja's wings were broken like a mosquito's. He yelled and screamed in torment And started to cry from Ayse's  love-telling. "A curtain has been drawn over my eyes," Said the hodja. "Since you've gone, we've been ruined. We're separated from you. Alas, alas! Without you, Life is death. Please come back to us of your own will." "My mind has been pawned to you. Is there anyone to help me in my grief?' My Heart is subject to your trials. It has fallen in the middle of death's hell And keeps burning." O yelling, crying hodja, Your hands and feet were safe before Whenever fate and accident hit them. But you broke so many Hearts Before this moment That now their punishment has found your feet. Be thankful to God that your punishment Came from the side of Love. But leave temporary Love, Because real Love is God's Love. The experienced veteran puts a wooden sword In the hand of his son Simply as a tool for training. To Love another human Is like that wooden sword. When it ends in disaster,
Love turns toward a merciful God. At first, Joseph, son of Jacob, Was in love with Zeliha. This lasted for years. In the end, he experienced God's Love, And it was then That Zeliha fell in love with Joseph. At first, she stayed away from Joseph, Who had tried to touch her shirt. In the end, Zeliha tried to tear Joseph's shirt. "That's my retaliation," she said, "I got even." Joseph said, "God's Love makes this Such a funny kind of thing." The one who desires becomes the desired one. The one at the bottom rises to the top. With His blessing, He makes many people The Kible  to their prayer. Here, words become thinner. Breath doesn't fit in the mouth. Now I want to use tongue-twisting words, Because it's the right place. He said, "Who am I? I'm a figure made out of dust." The one who casts Remil  Draws, right or wrong, many lines on the ground. Tell these words to our hodja, then listen. Hodja said, "Love set fire to my beard and burnt me. Why have you left me?" "O noble hodja, I left, but I came back quickly To tell your situation to the people." What could a silly man possibly tell? How could a particle from the sun Or a drop from the ocean Explain this endless adventure? When He shows you a small piece,
You'll understand the rest, Just as you do when merchants show you A handful of wheat from the barn For buying and selling the grain in the silo. When you see the sample, You'll know the rest; You'll know what kind of flour you'll get. You're also like an old barn. Dip in your hand And pick up a handful of wheat from the pile. See what kind of wheat you are, Then dike it to the mill. That world looks like a mill. This one is like a threshing floor. Whatever you are here, bran or wheat, That's what you are there. Go on. Leave this obstinacy, O obstinate one. Look. That hodja is waiting. The one who has done his work halfway Is rushing. He says, "Come on now." "O hodja, tell us, how are you? Why did you stay in this land of troubles? You're tired and afflicted with incurable pains, Covered with blood and dirt." The hodja answered, "Help, O Moslems. Watch your Hearts. I've been wounded. Be careful that something like this Doesn't happen to you. "I used to blame lovers When I saw them suffering. I laughed at them with a Heart full of malice And called them names, using bad words." "Woe to the one Who slanders and ridicules people. The one who says bad things, He will get back exactly what he says.  Is this the mouth of a human
Or the hole of a snake, a scorpion? Close this hole with mud and straw. Don't let friends be bitten. Fall in Love. Forget names and titles. Leave the grains, leave the trap. Name the stone 'gold.' Name sugar 'grief and suffering.'
O parrot who has Jesus' breath,O sweet-voiced Beauty, nightingale, Come with the melodies, Adding Soul to Soul. Make Venus confused and lost in space. Claim your Beauty. Let hundreds of enemies, Hundreds of friends, known and unknown, With yellow saffron faces and wet eyes Become the witnesses. Grief makes everyone cry. Men, women, all wail Because of grief. Save us from grief, Because it's become like a dragon of cruelty. O beautifully-voiced Sweetheart, Poke the belly of grief With Your hard, soft melodies. With Your justice, a tumult will be dropped In the land of Absence. Remember, our Cupbearer fills Hundreds of water bottles with air, Turns Souls into Ferhad  For the Love of sweet-fac