Konusu:
“Oh, the light of our hearts, come,
The end of my desires and struggles, come.
You know our lives are in your hands.
Don’t make life a burden for your servants, come.
Oh Love! Oh beloved! Exceed the meanings,
Put away the stubbornness, come
Oh Suleyman, the owner of the hoopoes!
Show grace, come and look for us.
Oh, the one who loves the most!
The truth of love passed you by
And captured the conscious, come!
The souls are groaning and bellowing since you’ve been gone,
The time is up, come.
Cover the shames, spread the favor,
It is the tradition of the generous, come!
How do they say ‘come’ in Persian? ‘Biya?’
Come or accept our invitation.
The time you come is our enjoyment.
If you don’t, we are never dignified, come…
Kurshad of Arabs, Kubat of Persians!
My heart is conquered with your memory, come…
My inner heart says ‘come’ to you.
The existence that will come from your existence, come!
Oh my moon! I wandered the countries for you.
Come as you encircle me and the countries.
You are like the sun that approaches and becomes distant again.
Come, the one close to his servants!”
Rumi