by Yunus Emre

The Divan of Yunus Emre is the collected lyric poetry of the most beloved mystic of the Turkish tradition — a man who, in the last decades of the thirteenth century and the opening of the fourteenth, chose to write not in the literary Persian that educated poets demanded, but in the common Anatolian tongue of the villages and fields. In this choice he made himself accessible to everyone: his poems have been sung and recited across the Turkish-speaking world for seven hundred years, and no other single work so completely embodies the popular mystical consciousness of Anatolia.

Yunus Emre (c. 1240–1320) was a dervish of the Sufi tradition, shaped by the teachings of Hacı Bektaş Veli and formed in the great wave of mysticism that Rumi's order was spreading through Anatolia. His poetry speaks of divine love (ışk) as a consuming fire that burns away the self, of the Friend (dost) as the single reality behind all appearances, and of the lover's surrender as the only wisdom. He addresses God, death, paradise, the saints, and the humble heart with equal directness — sometimes playful, sometimes devastating, always alive. The signature couplet of each poem calls himself miskin Yunus, "poor Yunus," a gesture of self-emptying that is itself a teaching.

This translation is drawn from the critical edition of Dr. Mustafa Tatcı (Dîvân-ı Yûnus Emre, 2008), the most authoritative modern Turkish scholarly edition, establishing the text from five principal manuscript traditions (F = Fatih, T = Topkapı, K = Konya, RY = Rıza Yıldırım, YE = Yahya Emre, and others). The edition numbers over 400 poems in the main divan, organized by the first letter of the rhyme-word following the Ottoman alphabet. Poem numbers and manuscript sigla are preserved in the source text section below; they are omitted from the translation body.

The Divan has never been translated in full into free English. Selections have appeared in Talat Sait Halman's anthology (1988) and scattered online sources, but the complete Tatcı-edition text has not previously been made available in English. This translation is independently derived from the Ottoman Turkish source, consulting no existing English versions as primary reference. Yunus chose simplicity deliberately; the translation honors that choice.

Elif — Poems 1–7

The Elif section opens the Divan with poems whose rhyme-words begin with the letter Elif (alif, A). The dominant meters are Müstef'ilün × 4 (heavy-light-heavy × 4) and Müstefi'lün × 4. The opening seven poems establish the central themes of the entire collection: the consuming nature of love, the worthlessness of honor and worldly desire, the nearness and inaccessibility of the Friend, and the poet's own poverty before God.

Poem 1

Without you, if I take to the road, I have no way to take a step.
You are the strength in my body, the power that lifts my head to walk.

My heart, my soul, my mind, my wisdom find their rest in you,
flapping and soaring, moment by moment, flying toward the Friend.

One who has passed beyond their own self, the Beloved makes a falcon—
setting them among the ducks and partridges, hunting and catching.

Shall I call them a lover if they love God's paradise?
Even paradise has become a snare, set to trap the souls of believers.

The Almighty, the All-Compelling, gives the man of love the strength of a thousand Hamzas,
uproots mountains, carves a road to reach the Friend.

A hundred thousand Farhads with their picks have dug down to the mountain's roots,
cut through the boulders, carved a channel for the Water of Life to flow.

The spring of the Water of Life is the union of the lovers.
It fills the cup and passes it on—to burn the thirsty even as it quenches.

The lover becomes poor, surrenders completely on the road.
Whatever another does to them, they must bow their neck—the heart cannot be shattered this way.

The sigh of the lovers turns the seven layers of Hell to ash
and aims to flood the eight heavens with light, pouring radiance into radiance.

Those we knew who came have passed; those we saw who settled have gone.
Souls who have drunk love's wine neither settle nor depart—they are beyond such coming and going.

Yunus's soul was not held back—it passed through Hell and through Heaven both,
hit the open road toward the Friend, heading home to its own first source.

Poem 2

One who claims to be a lover should put all greed and desire from mind.
For those who enter love's house, there is nothing left to be attached to, nothing left to be faithful to.

A true lover does not think of this world or the next.
That person is no lover who still goes chasing after dignity.

Those who say "love" with only their tongue do not know what love is.
You tell me: is honor the price of love?

Whoever has not let go of honor—love is a lie in their mouth.
Love and dignity have never lived under the same roof.

Honor and all its customs—these are just love of the world.
Let no one speak of love who still desires the world's esteem.

The world and honor cannot be reconciled with love.
By God, this subtlety is not mine—love is right here, and finds it all unfitting.

Where love lives in a person, nothing else can fit.
A horse, a mule, a camel—none of these can cross to where the Friend sleeps.

All these lovers came here together through love alone.
One drowned in the vision of God cannot fall back into that house.

Do not rush here calling Yunus a lover, hoping to imitate him.
Many merchants have lost everything going to a distant market.

Poem 3

One who has seen your face even once cannot forget it all their life.
You are the prayer on their tongue—they cannot say anything else.

The ascetic standing in your service—if they enter your gaze—
would forget their prayer-beads and never bow down in prostration again.

One who takes sugar in their mouth and then meets your eyes
forgets the sugar, cannot chew or swallow anymore.

If they could come and see your face blazing with radiance—
even the full moon of the fourteenth would have nothing to learn from anyone but you.

If someone put a price on my love for you,
I would give them both worlds—and still it would fall short.

Even if both worlds were packed full of garden and grove,
no rose in any orchard could exceed your fragrance.

The fragrance of the rose and the basil belongs to the lover and the beloved.
The beloved of a true lover never leaves their thoughts.

When Israfil blows the Last Trumpet and all creation rises—
my ear would still hear nothing above your voice.

If Venus were to come down to earth and pour out her lament on the lute—
the lover's eye would turn away from her revelry: none of it without you.

What does the lover do with their home, their world, their very soul without you?
Both worlds are a sacrifice to you—let no one doubt this.

If the Houris of all eight heavens came to me arrayed in their beauty,
my heart could accept nothing other than love of you.

Whatever this world contains—in the next, let none of it remain.
When the Houris and the serving boys arrive, a lover cannot reach out for any of it.

Since Yunus has come to love you, his soul has known nothing but glad tidings.
He lives each moment fresh—his life can never age.

Poem 4

Both worlds are a prison—but I need them to become a garden.
What sorrow or grief remains for me, when the Friend's grace comes?

I will go to the Friend and be a servant, opening every moment, becoming a rose.
I will sing and become a nightingale—let my station be the rose garden.

My eyes have seen the Friend's face—before the saints, my face is dust.
For one who knows words, let these words of mine be a land of sweetness.

Without you, both worlds look like a prison to my eyes.
One who comes to know your love must be among the elect of the elect.

One who passes beyond every claim, flying toward the Real—
one who drinks love's wine: sometimes drunk, sometimes deeply, utterly drunk.

The hypocrite's eye is blind; their face will be blackened on the Day.
The bitter words the people say against me—let them become a land of sweetness.

Every moment I press my face to the ground and give thanks to my God.
I surrender my selfhood to the Friend—let no claim, no legend remain.

My self could not bear love—and unbidden, the secret spilled.
Yunus, let these words of yours become a legend in all the worlds.

Poem 5

You must take hold of love's hem, so that in the end nothing fades.
Let no question be asked of one who has learned even a single letter from love.

If you know what love is, if you give your heart to love—
on love's road, what is wealth? Give even your soul—let nothing be too much.

If you want to know the mark of the truly noble—
every word has its meaning. Let no word be thrown away lightly.

This is the mark of the knowers of God: they are present in every heart.
They surrender themselves—and in their speech, there is no dispute.

Do you not see the bee? It draws honey from every flower.
But in the nest of the fly and the moth—no honey can be made.

If you want a jewel, serve those who know God.
Even if the ignorant says a thousand words, not a grain of meaning is in them.

Poor Yunus: deadly poison becomes antidote in love's hand.
Without love, all learning, all practice, all piety—let none of it be licit.

Poem 6

Do you not remember that day when your eyes will see nothing,
your form will fall to the earth and your tongue will give no news?

What holds Azrael back? Not even a father can stop him.
No one withstands that terrible awe—no help comes from the crowd.

The soul-taker comes for you, with a soul-taking sword.
He strips your mind from your head—not a moment's mercy granted.

First the washer comes, then behind them the water-pourer,
then the shroud-wrapper—they cannot know your state.

The child goes to take advice, delivers news to friend and foe alike.
Repentance that comes after will do you no good.

They seat you on a wooden horse and send you toward the grave,
lower you beneath the earth—and no one will see you again.

For three days they sit by you and settle all your affairs.
Then they speak your name one last time—and after that, no one remembers.

Poor Yunus, you should have given this counsel to yourself first.
Preaching to today's creatures does no good anyway.

Poem 7

O lovers, O lovers, love is my religion.
My eyes have seen the Friend's face—all mourning is a wedding-feast to me.

No longer can sorrow touch us or tarnish the heart.
The beautiful call that comes from God—that voice is all my sound.

I no longer say "I" to myself, or "you" to another—
neither "servant" nor "sultan." Let those who hear stand in wonder.

My road goes from you to you; my tongue speaks you from you.
God—my hand cannot reach you: I stand in awe before this mystery.

I will not be separated from your love, not driven from your threshold.
Even if I must go beyond this—I will go toward you, with you.

That Friend sent us out: "Go, behold the world for a moment."
I came and looked—a display. No one who loves you remains in it.

He promised his servants: "On the day to come, you shall see me."
The joy of those who love the Friend—tomorrow is today for me.

Since the Friend attained to love, this world and the next became one.
If you ask about eternity—yesterday and today are one to me.

Yunus has made love his religion—what is religion? He has made love his very faith.
In love, what difference is there between today and tomorrow, between first and last?

Elif — Poems 8–20

The Elif section continues and concludes with Poems 8–20. These thirteen poems span the full range of the Yunus register: intimate surrender (Poem 8), vivid eschatology (Poems 9, 15, 16), mystical identity at the level of the cosmos (Poem 12), generous blessing of enemies (Poem 13), the antinomian love-beyond-religion teaching (Poem 17), a mortality meditation in the imperative mode (Poem 18), a cosmological account of the human form (Poem 19), and a vision of love as the very structure of prayer (Poem 20). The Elif section is complete after Poem 20; the Çe (Ç) section begins with Poem 21.

Poem 8

O King, O King — here I have given myself over to you.
All my treasure and my treasury — you are mine, from first to last.

In the beginning it was with you — the mind, the soul, the source.
At the end it is you again: I will go there, toward you.

Who knows this wisdom — with all this sighing, all this weeping?
Even one who knows cannot speak it. I have turned my face toward you.

If I stand, I stand with you. If I look, I look with you.
Wherever I walk, the direction of my heart is toward you.

You are my soul and my world. You are my hidden treasure.
Profit and loss are yours. Whatever I do — it all comes from you to me.

Yunus has turned his face to you, forgotten his entire self.
All his words are spoken to you. You are the one who speaks through me.

Poem 9

Would you not remember that Day — when all the world stands bewildered,
not knowing what to do, witless and reeling?

Israfil will blow the trumpet, and all creation will rise and stand,
then go to the Gathering — and God the Sovereign will be the judge.

The tormentors of hell will seize and drag and throw them down,
and skin will burn and bones will moan, day and night a shrieking.

Mâlik will cry out: "Drag him to hell, bring him before the arena" —
and from the fear of God, even hell will tremble with its wailing.

Mâlik says: "Hey hey!" — and hell, trembling, shakes with everything in it.
Whoever has not kept God's command — they shall be roasted there.

Mountains will be torn from their places, the sky split open from His majesty.
The bonds of the stars will break and they will fall, scattering through the air.

Our sins will be weighed, and the veils will be torn away,
and the sins you did not know — on that Day they will be plain to you.

Yunus says: hold your face turned to His threshold.
May the eye seek to see the Truth — and may His grace come from there.

Poem 10

Strange, strange — what a thing is this pain and this separation —
love's poison has made my soul drunk. To me, this is the antidote.

If anyone has a sickness, let them seek a cure for their pain.
This illness cut my sickness clean. This pain itself became my cure.

If you say: burn in love's fire — if you say: enter into hearts —
the darknesses will grow bright. I need no candle, no lamp.

If you read the four books sent from heaven a thousand times each day,
but deny the saints — the vision will be far from you.

Poor Yunus, do not be proud before the saints — become earth.
In the earth all things grow. The rose garden — to me, earth is all.

Poem 11

He has no companion — for this world is prison to him.
Let him not say: "I am glad." Where would gladness come to him from?

Shaddad built his paradise, then died before he entered it.
The ruler of seven climes — not a moment's reprieve was given to him.

Let him not say: "I am Muslim, obedient to God's command —"
[gap in manuscript — one line missing at third couplet]

Let him not say: many suns will rise — my flesh, my body will not grow cold.
If your body is not pierced open, the sun's flame cannot reach in.

If one puts on the garment of a true man and does not walk the straight road,
let him take off that garment — otherwise the lack will follow from it.

For the one who is deaf — do not speak God's truth to him.
Even if you try, it will be wasted. There is no gift in the word for him.

The one who is a man of the Way is the companion of lonely hearts.
If he would take one word from me — it is sweeter than honey-candy.

Yunus — he is your servant. You know him well.
Let others say what they will. What sticks to the tongue from all of it?

Poem 12

I am that ocean of love — the seas are amazed at me.
The ocean is my single drop. The atoms are my ocean.

Mount Qaf is less than a grain of me. Moon and sun serve me.
My source is God, without doubt. The Quran is my guide.

My road goes to the Friend, my realm is the eternal kingdom.
This tongue speaks from God. I am neither servant nor sultan.

This royal court was nothing — that King already was.
Oh, from the hand of this love — pain itself became my cure.

Before Adam was created, before soul entered the mold,
before Satan was cursed — the Throne was my canopy above.

He desired to see His own face, to hear His own words.
He looked on me once — and at that moment He gave me soul.

The Chosen One was born: face of light, heart of clarity.
He kept faith with God, and from him grace reaches me.

The spirit of the faith was born, and all things came from that.
Adam, Ibrahim, Moses — to me they are proof and witness.

One who does not know the language of the lover is either mad or faithless.
I know the language of birds — it is Solomon who speaks to me.

Yunus says: on this road he declares his deficiencies,
then drunk, he cries out. Dervishhood — an accusation against me.

Poem 13

Whoever is my enemy — may God the Truth be a friend to him.
Wherever he goes — may garden and spring meet him.

The one who hands me poison — may his food be honey and sugar.
May all his work go easy, may his hand reach what it seeks.

The one who digs a pit before me — may God raise him to His throne.
The one who throws stones at my back — may roses be scattered for him.

The one who wishes me a bitter life — may he live sweetly in the world.
The one who wishes my death — may God give him a thousand more years.

Whoever wants to see me disgraced and weeping in an enemy's grip —
may his friends rejoice, may his enemies become friends.

Whoever desires me separated from my beloved Friend —
may the veil lift from their eyes, may the vision become plain to them.

Poor Yunus — the one who cannot bear to hear of his laughter in this world,
who wishes him in tears — may my eyes become a spring for him.

Poem 14

O King who has never ceased to exist — I have turned toward you.
Even with the shame of this face — I seek union with you.

You are the one who sees in my eyes, the one who speaks in my tongue.
You are the one who made me real, from beginning to end — you alone.

You said: "O Lord, I am near to you from you to you" —
since you are near to me from me — show me your beautiful face.

How near you are to me, yet I am full of longing and hunger for you.
Day and night I watch for you — and I cannot see. I am left bewildered.

The one who comes is the one who goes. The one who appears is the one who sees.
High and low — all of it is He, if it shows itself to me.

Yunus — this secret is God. It cannot come with this tongue.
To know it is to taste it. Mind cannot reach it.

Poem 15

I wonder if my soul will be set free, O Lord —
or will it burn and remain in seven layers of Hell, O Lord?

I wonder at my state under the ground, beneath the earth —
when I go to lie there, will scorpions fill my grave, O Lord?

When God becomes the judge — will He be pleased with us?
Seeing the Beloved, will he intercede for us, O Lord?

When the soul comes to my throat, when I see Azrael,
when he takes my soul — will it be easy, O Lord?

When Yunus comes to the grave and Münker and Nekir arrive,
when they ask me the questions — will my tongue turn to answer, O Lord?

Poem 16

My great and towering sins have left me with no face, O Çalap.
No one could find a remedy. I have turned back to you again, O Çalap.

I asked the scholars: what is the cure for this sinful pain of mine?
They too said: the cure for that — is only you, O Çalap.

When the time comes and we die, when we go to the grave,
when the tormentors arrive — show us your grace, O Çalap.

When they come and find me alone,
and ask in a language I do not know — help me, O Çalap.

In the grave they will ask this, and they will not spare us.
We have turned our faces to you — spare us, O Çalap.

You are my sovereign, the soul within my soul.
My sins are many. Come to my aid, O Çalap.

The houris of paradise are clothed in garments of light.
Those fortunate believers — make that our lot, O Çalap.

I speak without stopping, and my soul burns for my sin.
Sinful Yunus's words — receive them, O Çalap.

Poem 17

If you ask about religion and sect — what need has a lover for religion?
The lover is broken into ruins. The lover does not know piety or practice.

The heart and eye of lovers go seeking only the Beloved.
What remains of form? Who will take up asceticism or worship?

One who worships for the sake of paradise, one who keeps religion out of fear of Hell —
the lover is free of both. What does this sign look like?

Whoever loves the Friend must go toward the Friend.
When the work and task itself becomes the Friend, one is freed from all works.

Who can bring news of such a Beloved?
Even the Sent Angel Gabriel cannot enter where the intimate prayer is.

There will be no questioning, no accounting, for one who abandons both world and next world.
What will Münker and Nekir ask when all desire is let go?

How would fear and hope come to one who has let go of existence and nothingness?
Knowledge and deed cannot fit there. No scales, no bridge over hell.

In that marketplace of Judgment every soul is anxious for its head.
Yunus, you with the lovers — may you never have to see Judgment Day.

Poem 18

Suppose you held the whole world from Qaf to Qaf —
or suppose you won all the world's wealth by gaming. Suppose it.

Suppose you sat on Solomon's throne in Solomon's palace,
and issued fair commands to demons and fairies. Suppose it.

Suppose you added Feridun's treasury and Nushirvan's hoard
together with the wealth of Qarun to your own. Suppose it.

This world is a morsel — chewed already, in the mouth.
Why hold onto what's been chewed? Suppose you swallowed it.

Your life is a loaded arrow fully drawn back in the bow.
Why would a loaded arrow wait? Suppose you let it fly.

Suddenly from this world's realm a summons will go out.
Know it now without waiting — suppose you've prepared and gone.

Since you are drowning and the water has come to your throat,
don't thrash like a madman, poor soul — suppose you've sunk.

Every breath that comes is subtracted from your purse.
When the purse is half spent — suppose you've spent it all.

You will surely taste this cup of death — there is no doubt of the tasting.
Know it even before the taste — suppose you've already drunk.

One day you will die — you know there is death, you know.
Parted from everyone, gone to lie in the tomb — suppose it.

Even if your life lasts a hundred years of joy, Yunus,
the end of it is one breath. Go past even that — suppose you've gone.

Poem 19

Let one who asks of my nature hear this account:
water and earth and fire and wind became the form.

From four opposing things, four walls —
God harmonized them and granted this wonder.

Wind and earth He set suspended in balance.
Fire within water, He held in safety.

The sustenance of my life He made complete
before the six directions held the garment.

No one can give news of my spirit.
His power is command — it is He who gives movement.

Let me set forth the rest of my arrangement:
the existence of grace, hearing and seeing.

My mind's news is not today's —
let one who is a man call it the prior sign.

The matter of question and answer touches on this:
from this point on — my world is without end.

With Yunus this far is my portion:
the heart — the Friend's dwelling. My tongue — testimony.

Poem 20

Love is our imam. The heart is the congregation.
Our qibla is the Friend's face. Prayer is constant.

The soul went to the Friend's mihrab in prostration,
struck the face to the ground and speaks in intimate prayer.

Our five-time arrangement has become one time.
Divided into five — who still performs worship?

Religion says to us: do not abandon the conditions.
The condition is for the one who betrays.

When one sees the Friend's face, all idolatry is plundered away.
That is why religion remained at the door.

There is no time like the time of intimate prayer —
when would one be in seclusion with the Friend, in this very moment?

We speak against no one's religion.
When religion is complete, love is born.

Our fortune is the breath of the saints.
That is why we have been kept safe from strife.

[two stanzas missing from manuscript at this point]

We said "Yes, indeed" in that first moment —
and that moment is still today, and this is still that hour.

One who waits in honesty at the Friend's door —
that one will certainly find Divine grace, without doubt.

Yunus is such a prisoner at that door.
He desires that ease may never come to him eternally.

Çe — Poem 21

The Çe section contains poems whose rhyme-words end in the Çe (Ç) sound.

Poem 21

I was walking the road when I came upon a tree grown very tall—
my heart said to it: sweet tree, open some secrets to me now.

What meaning is there in growing so tall, since this world is all passing away?
This is a sign of vain striving — come here, tree, cross into humility.

Adorning yourself so delicately, arranging yourself so sweetly—
while the heart stretches toward God: what is the wish? what does it need?

The tree grows cold, the world's cycle turns, a bird alights on the branch once—
yet no bird has settled on you — not a dove, not even a partridge.

One day ruin will come for you, your tall stature will bow to the earth—
your branches will enter the fire, making cauldrons boil and griddles glow.

Your secret is the secret of the hero; your place is the hero's place—
where then is your place? I ask you this, O tree.

Poor Yunus — your own deficiencies are a hundred thousand times greater—
why ask directions from a dead tree? Take your ease and go on your way.

Ra and Following — Poems 22–31

Poems organized by rhyme-letter following the Çe section. Section boundaries within this range are approximate pending full source review.

Poem 22

Do not be heedless — open your eyes, look at your state, see the dying—
do not grow proud in this world; see those brought low by sin.

See how they lie fallen, with snakes and scorpions swarming over them—
see their bones crumbling away, rotting, bound in the earth.

Some sigh and wail — all they possessed was sin—
they have moved on, lying in the black earth: look at those poor ones who used to laugh.

Do not ask your state to just anyone, do not go near those without mercy—
see the one who has caught hold of their inner work, freshly setting on the way.

Where is Muhammad the Chosen, who ruled from one end of the world to the other?
To whom has the world kept faith? Look at those deceived and left behind.

Do not be deceived by wealth and livestock — serve in ways that suit God—
see the one who, with joy, goes along to find an eternal companion.

Poor Yunus strings these words together, offering wisdom to the people—
but see how little he himself holds; look at the lie in what he preaches.

Poem 23

Night departs, day arrives —
see how orderly it all comes.

God's command comes to the world, straight and level, from end to end.

Darkness is driven away, the universe grows bright—
in the place of darkness, daylight comes with its light.

Will you not take a lesson? Or do you simply not understand?
Listen to the birds' voices — what various music comes.

The bird was just an egg; the nest was just a veil—
the bird's voice is the voice of Power; to those who don't know, it's just a goose.

Listen to the meaning of my words, if you truly want to understand—
to the ears of the knowing one, the voice of Power comes swift and clear.

Look to your right and left; do not scatter down every road—
from the garden of Power, see what voices come to you.

The word takes its master's word away; form remains in the earth—
whoever knows this state steps back from themselves.

My mind went along this road and carried me beyond myself—
poor Yunus, his burden is gone; to those who don't know, it seems very little.

Poem 24

For souls acquainted with love, eternity has no near or far end—
going astray in this world, no one will abide here forever.

If a garment is stained with blood, unless washed it will not come clean—
unless the heart's rust is washed away, prayer cannot be performed aright.

If you have washed away the heart's rust, set aside pride and hatred—
unless the affirmation of faith is made whole, the saint's gaze will not fall on you.

Those who collect this filth think they can wash it off with ordinary water—
unless the saint's help comes, a life passes and they remain unwashed.

Poor Yunus, reach toward God now — night and day give your heart to God—
unless the heart's eye sees, the eyes in this head will never see.

Poem 25

The station of love is exalted — love is ancient, from before time;
whoever speaks of love speaks the entire language of Power.

The one who listens is That, the one who hears is That, the one who sees and shows is That—
every word is spoken by That; form is only the waystation of the soul.

Where did form find speech? Where did speech become deed?
It itself came to form — the tongue is only the road of wisdom.

Forms cannot speak; speech cannot speak without itself—
works do not arise without a veil: this is the fruit of prophecy.

This is our joy, this is our delight—
the sherbet of love that we drink and are drunk on — this is its rose.

Call it That — His word and His speaker are That;
That is ours and we are His — all else is merely the tongue of praise.

Poor Yunus strings together his words — the denier cannot see it—
whoever throws their life into darkness is the poor one of gnosis.

Poem 26

O you who blame me for love — come, save me from it, if you can!
But if it is beyond your power, keep your false words to yourself.

The state of lovers ends in the Beloved's presence — nothing more.
If you have something to say, say it to Him — what is left in my hands?

Whoever has lifted the veil from the Friend's face—
no barrier remains for them; good and evil are no more.

No one has crossed from state to state through their own strength—
the Beloved strikes the lover's soul like a beak.

Whoever has drunk even an atom from love's cup—
no mind, no reason, no drunkenness, no hangover for them.

It is not only I who am a lover in the Beloved's sight—
a hundred thousand like me have given their lives on the road of love.

Only those who are lovers know the state of lovers—
love is a hidden treasure; its secrets must stay hidden.

I am afraid to speak, out of respect for religious law—
otherwise I would tell you something even stranger.

Who could give news of the Beloved in this tongue?
Only those in whom there is a soul within a soul.

If poor Yunus dies, no grief, brothers — we are in love—
whoever walks the road of love is born under the Beloved's star.

Poem 27

Ask your news from one who has knowledge of inner meaning—
give your heart to one who has a trace of love in their soul.

The one whose outside looks pleasant — know that their inside is empty.
Day and night they hoot like an owl: do not think the wall is solid.

A kite builds a nest, roaming from town to town, snatching the young—
it swerves away from the falcon's path; under its wing it carries carrion.

It has no fellowship with the falcon, no life worthy of God—
expect sanctity from one only: the one who has a pure gaze.

In form there are many human beings, but in most there is no real step—
from first to last, the one who truly steps forward: Muhammad, their master.

The road of the hurrying soul runs through thicket on thicket—
the forest is easy for those who know it; in the deep wood, the master walks in a worn robe, with many dangers about.

Sheikh, scholar, and saint — on the road of the hero, all are one—
poor Yunus is the servant of dervishes; he has a master like Tapduk.

Poem 28

O man of love, open your eyes — turn your gaze to the face of the earth:
see these delicate flowers, adorned, going to God.

In summer they adorn themselves, stretching toward the Friend—
ask them, brother: where is the journey headed?

Each flower praises God with a thousand tender gestures, with prayer—
every bird, with its lovely voice, does remembrance of the King.

They praise His omnipotence and His readiness for every task—
but the moment they recall the shortness of life, their color turns.

Their color turns, day by day they are poured back to the earth again—
this is a lesson for the one who understands; the gnostic feels it.

If you had perceived this secret, if you had taken in this grief—
you would have melted where you stood, and all your burdens would have left you.

What kind of coming is this that you call coming? What kind of knowing?
Your final destination is death — you have felt not a single trace of love.

We know now: whoever came has passed; whoever settled has moved on again—
whoever has drunk love's sherbet knows this meaning in their bones.

Poor Yunus, abandon these words — wash your hands of yourself—
say "what can come from me?" For good and evil alike come from God.

Poem 29

The pure fruit of keeping silent is silence itself;
the cost of speaking is the rust on hearts.

To wash away this rust from hearts—
speak only the word that is the essence of speech.

To the one who speaks truth, God said: "Say the Truth!"—
whoever speaks falsehood here will be ashamed tomorrow.

One who does not look upon the seventy-two nations with unity—
though a saint in outward law, is a sinner in reality.

Let me describe to you the nature of law and inner truth—
religious law is a ship; inner reality is the ocean.

However sturdy the planks of the ship—
when the waves strike, the sea will smash it.

For those who wander scattered in the endless world—
mind, heart, understanding, soul, thought — all are its children.

We are seekers — every moment we recite the lesson of love;
God gives the lesson; love itself is the professor.

Listen, O friend — let me tell you something deeper than this:
the saint of religious law is the unbeliever of inner reality.

Since the Deer-Father cast a single glance upon us—
whatever has become of poor Yunus is all the fruit of that.

Poem 30

Who today is a companion on this road of non-existence?
Let us head toward our homeland — ask who there is a true brother.

How long have we remained in this region beneath heavy burdens?
Who is the one who can shed these loads and constructions and share your state?

It sent you here saying "go, enjoy yourself for a while"—
but you build a house, O master; who is the one who shapes the house?

We saw the earthly realm and were deceived; we still haven't reached the divine throne—
for this throne and this floor, O master, who is the one who lays the carpet?

Come, come, let us go — Yunus has passed and moved on—
poor Yunus falls at everyone's feet: who is the one who leads this road?

Poem 31

I am the world-conqueror — the turning age is mine;
I am the great champion — the arena is mine.

Of bandits and robbers I have no fear nor care—
this might and this strength come from God; they are mine.

Abu Bakr and Umar, those great ones of the faith,
Ali the Chosen, Uthman — they are mine.

Who shall take the ball from our polo-stick?
This field and this ball are mine.

Let the poor come to me and be made rich—
this wealth, this capital, this shop is mine.

Within my body, the light of faith is Hasan;
Husayn, the possessor of gnosis, is mine.

I am Yunus — Yunus in this world—
I am the Sultan's servant; the Sultan is mine.

Ra and Following — Poems 32–43

The Ra and following sections continue with varied rhyme schemes. Poem 40 employs sustained M-alliteration across all line openings — a formal tour de force where every first hemistich begins with M. Poem 41 is an exceptional poem of self-accusation, confessing the gap between outward reputation and inward state. Poem 42 meditates on the divine origin of speech: words flowing from God, not the poet.

Poem 32

Let the soul be offered to the lover who has union with the Friend—
his soul is one with the Beloved; what other state could there be?

Soul and heart, mind and understanding — let them all be offered to the Beloved.
Apart from that, what wealth or possession does the lover have?

This earth and sky, this Throne and ground, stand firm by love's taste.
The foundation is love; the lover reaches into every space between.

Whatever the lovers possess, detachment is required along the way.
Love rules over everything; within every road, it has its own road.

Whoever loves eternal life must hold fast to love's hem.
Beyond love, everything else is subject to exchange and decay.

For the lovers, this body is like a shirt.
If they wear out a hundred thousand shirts, no impossibility stands in the lovers' way.

Some say to Yunus: "You've grown old — let go of love."
But time's wind cannot touch love; love has no months or years.

Poem 33

Leave the anxiety of dying — the lover does not die; the lover endures.
What has death to do with you? Your soul belongs to God.

Why fear death? Do not fear — you exist eternally,
since you are of use. To fear is a false claim.

Look at this jewel — or this hidden light.
When does light ever go lost? For God himself is its gazing-place.

Before the word "Am I not?" was ever spoken, we knew each other from eternity.
Understand well what you are — where is the source of that knowing?

Give thanks to the Creator — he is the Living, the Everlasting.
You will certainly come to him; at least go to him with gratitude.

We knew one another from eternity; we had already reached unity.
Do not look at this form — the body is only the soul's storehouse.

This primordial unity, this worldly life,
this unity of the heart — know it is a branch of divine power.

For one who knows, there is no estrangement; for one who holds to life as it comes—
the road to union is firm for one who speaks from knowing.

Into the realm of flowing decree, let him know that work himself.
Since the work has come to its fruit — this realm is the house of being.

Yunus, they call from the Friend's side: "Good news — come."
"Everything returns to its source" — this saying is the root of all speech.

Poem 34

The soul is a great one; the body is its instrument.
Whatever morsel you eat is the body's power.

The more you eat, the more you walk satisfied.
But none of it profits the soul — it all serves the form.

Where is the soul's blessing? Come — let us find it.
What brings peace to the soul is the company of the saints.

Company fattens the soul; it is the lover's very life.
By the command of God the Lord, it is the saints' own aspiration.

The honor and aspiration of the saints is greater than the Throne itself.
Whoever you see bearing this quality — it is the saints' grace.

Grace is their work; not everyone understands it.
Know this: the huma bird is the fortune of the lovers.

Yunus burns inside; his heart is the humblest of all.
Not to be counted among the saints' lineage is the crime — and yet the saints' aspiration covers it.

Poem 35

God will drive you away from him — give away all you have and go.
Why do you feed this body? In the grave, worms and birds will eat it and be gone.

Look at the dead — open your eyes — beard and hair fall away.
Snake and scorpion come hungry, eat and drink their fill, then go.

Those greater than us, of the finest qualities,
those doers of good deeds — they leave just this word as they go.

Cut your hands from the forbidden; cut your tongue from backbiting.
Before Azrael reaches you, this shop will close and be gone.

The appointed hour draws near; the head dries; long life ends quickly.
Mountains and boulders grow flat; the sky folds up; the earth is gone.

When the soul rises to the Divine Presence, prepare yourself for the afterlife.
The one who rises at dawn to worship — they reach God's house and go.

O Yunus, when you die, your grave will fill with light.
Faith will be your companion, and you will go to the afterlife like a lion.

Poem 36

Can one who has not given their soul on love's road be a lover?
Can one who has not striven to reach that Friend be a lover?

Can one who has not drunk from love's cup, has not passed beyond the ego's desires,
has not stood like a man on God's road be a lover?

Can one who has not strengthened the Friend's love in the heart with their soul,
has not rolled up the register of long hopes, be a lover?

Can one who has not always endured austerity, kneeled in solitary retreat,
and seen some trace of God's countenance be a lover?

Love allows no easy familiarity; not every soul rises heavenward.
Can one who has not burned in fire like a moth be a lover?

When a person is wounded, they seek a remedy.
Can one who has not asked for the cure of their own wound be a lover?

O Yunus, endure your Friend's cruelty.
Can one who has not shot love's arrow into their own heart be a lover?

Poem 37

If you have reached union, what is this pain and separation still?
If you see the Friend nearby, what is this distance you stare into?

One who is a person of union must be annihilated from selfhood.
To enter this road — let us see what the preparation is.

If you have become a person of union, if you have known the eye's veil,
if you see the Friend plainly — why do you still cling to selfhood?

Knowledge itself is the eye's veil; the world is the account settling of the afterlife.
The Book is love's book — what is this page that keeps being read?

Open your eyes, beware — discern the ego's trap.
Pass into the Friend's inner chamber — what dwelling could be better?

You say: "My eye sees; the claim reaches inner meaning."
The sun gives light by day — then what is this lamp that burns at night?

Yunus says: openly and hidden, God fills both worlds.
Let those who go to the Friend come here — what are the houris, the mansions, the Buraq?

Poem 38

The meaning of reality, they did not grasp through commentary.
The saints have not lived this life through pretense.

Reality is a sea; religious law is its ship.
Many have left the ship but never plunged into the sea.

They came to the gate; religious law holds them standing there.
They entered, but they did not know what lay within.

The children of religious law argue and stake their claims.
The saints of reality did not remain stuck in claims.

Those who only comment on the four books are, in reality, transgressors,
because they recited the commentaries but did not know the inner meaning.

Yunus, your name is true — if you have come to this road.
Those who have not changed their name have not come to this road.

Poem 39

Leave behind pattern and image; do not give them way — beware!
One who enters the road by mere pattern will end up loving the world.

Let the world out of your hands — the world is a veil on this road.
We have heard this message from the saints and the prophets.

Either love the world and hold it, or come and lead on the road.
Two claims and one meaning — they say this will not fit on the road.

Pass beyond the worship of creatures; do not stray from the Friend.
Do not be deceived by transient pattern — what do they do with transient pattern?

Do not linger with every passing color, every hundred-thousand-year league.
Both worlds are one step — they will lead you astray if you lose your footing.

Look beyond this turning world; the caravan has gone and vanished.
There is danger right and left; without losing your balance, they pass through.

Do not watch the wild road outside; do not go beyond the road at home.
The soul's road is within the soul; the soul's secret is known by the soul.

The soul knows the soul's secret; the soul's secret gives nothing to the tongue.
When does a true lover ever speak a lie to the Friend?

One who comes from eternity's beginning to the house of oneness —
they are lifted and go inside. Yunus remains outside, without news.

Poem 40

The Men of God in this world did not cling to purposes.
Even having found the realm of permanence, they did not turn toward transience.

It is known, brother — what the way-men endured for God.
Each one in affliction, having become humble, they did not smile.

The work of the longing ones is this: their tears flow always.
Those who truly love God have not clung to property or self.

Mansur came to the road made famous by his pain.
Like Majnun, he became the talk of tongues — they never separated from the Beloved.

If you are bound to this matter, do not ask "what use is it?" like a denier.
From beginning to end, there is no difficulty — the believers have not died.

One who passes beyond creature-knowledge soars straight to the Night Journey.
Those who drank the wine of inner meaning have not sobered from their intoxication.

Love is the destination, O Yunus — a hundred thousand thanks and praise to God!
Those who found their destination found the realm; they did not depart with mere praise.

Poem 41

O you who speak well of me — I am the least of all.
Such a sinner am I that the sinners are better leaders on this road.

Try to find another servant-sinner like me.
My tongue speaks knowledge and propriety; my heart loves the world.

My outward form carries a good name; my heart is corrupt in devotion.
Not to be found in Baghdad — a rogue like me.

My outside is familiar to all; my inside is a stranger. My tongue speaks well; my heart is an apostate.
An evil deed with a good name — where else is there such a trial?

My outside burns; my inside is raw — this is my life, always.
I have not walked one step on the road, yet I give out news from the Throne.

My dervish cloak is a veil for my faults; my thoughts are corrupt in their ground.
My heart is elsewhere in the market; on my tongue my words seem secret.

Whoever I gave counsel to — I saw them reach God.
But my own counsel has left no mark on me.

I took on the title of shaykh; I abandoned devotion to the Beloved.
I gave the ego what it desired — where now is the commerce with God?

Yunus's name has spread wide — all his devotion is fault.
Perhaps Çalab in his grace will cover over the fault.

Poem 42

O you who know the root of words — come, say: from where does this word come?
One who does not understand the word's root thinks this word comes from me.

A word can make the heart glad; a word can make the familiar strange.
Whether degradation or honor — for every person, it comes from the word.

The word is not from black or white; not from writing or reading.
It does not come from this walking people — it comes from the Creator's voice.

I have read neither alif nor jīm; my speech does not come from existence.
A hundred thousand astrologers could not know — from what star does my fortune come?

Our flame is not from the moon; the man of love is not from this lineage.
Our sustenance is not from this house — it comes from the ocean of the deep.

God had written it first on the heart's tablet, like a scroll.
This lesson now being read comes from the eternity of eternities.

The first address is made to the soul; from the soul it comes to the body.
We are instruments, pretexts — what else can come from our hands?

Our mind looks at that tablet and opens hidden ailments.
Word comes to my heart, flows in, word comes to the tongue unbidden.

We are pretexts in between — say further, what can come from the hand?
When God gives the order to the soul, this speech comes from that.

Yunus, sigh with this pain — what does comfort do in the house of grief?
The remedy and expiation for this pain comes from the distilling of one sigh.

Poem 43

Listen, O great and small — I have news for you.
What fortune is mine today, that I have a Friend like you!

When I walk, you are before me; when I speak, you are on my tongue.
When I sit, you are beside me — what other market do I need?

Neither do I wander, nor seek rest, nor go on distant journeys—
since I found the Friend right here, what journey remains to me?

Merchants go on distant roads to make profit.
Since the jewel is already in my hand — tell me, what other market do I need?

Poor Yunus's soul, since it reached that Friend,
grows its love moment by moment — my sustenance comes from a great place.

44

Let us seek the master of the work — let us find where he is.
If you listen with the ear of the soul, this word of mine is a riddle.

Take the riddle and taste it — love melts the one who does.
The one who wrings their neck in this world is a remedy in God's sight.

One must know that Friend, and the soul must be awake.
You know the one who loves this world — like an owl, they haunt the ruins.

The owl calls in the ruins — no one finds their desire there.
Do good works, I tell you — God's scale is waiting there.

When you arrive at that scale, God himself looks at the writing.
Mountains melt at the sight — and the angels of torment are there.

Your scroll is placed in your hand, and your deeds come down your road.
Witnesses come forward too — friend and enemy, they are all there.

You must abandon throne and crown, and know the migration you have made.
Muhammad is God's intercessor — our advocate is there.

O Yunus, if you are a lover, gird tight the belt of faith.
Exchange your being for nothingness — all your lack is in yourself.

45

Good tidings to the lovers — this love becomes a great fortune!
Whoever love has reached — know it, joy lives in their soul.

They abandon everything they loved and do not drift to any side.
At every moment their promenade is both Essence and Attribute.

In that promenade they are swift — their thought is ever grace and prayer.
Since blessedness became their confidant, their prayers become a thousand.

Vision seizes them — and the soul grows restless.
At every moment meaning speaks without claim — unstinting, at peace.

That One is beyond all sign — what can we say? Our tongue falls short.
That All-Knowing, Judging Essence — within every essence, the Essence.

Stinginess and greed find no room in them; even honour is set aside.
Ambition and desire find no path into the one who holds this fortune.

The one whose hand reaches those works, who gives the heart to God's love,
who sees the Friend face to face — is silenced by the whole of being.

Whoever received that heavenly feast — all principles come to them.
If they go to a house of mourning, mercy falls upon the dead.

Yunus is without end — love, still more, is without limit.
There is no limit and no end — all of it becomes one Presence.

46

Into this city of the body, I long to enter for a moment —
to see the face of the Sultan who dwells within.

I hear his voice but cannot see his face.
For a glimpse of that face, I long to give my soul.

The Beloved's inner chamber has seven gates.
Through those gates, I long to journey inward.

At each gate stands a keeper with a hundred thousand soldiers.
I long to gird the sword of love and cut through them all.

The company of the saints increases knowledge.
Those without pain — I long to drive them from the gathering.

I am Majnun's Layla — I am the one mad for the Merciful.
To see Layla's face, I long to become Majnun.

The Friend has been our guest all these years, all this time.
Like a true Ishmael, I long to become the sacrifice.

The gaze of the saints turns dust to jewels.
At the feet of the saints, I long to become dust.

A messenger comes from my Beloved, asking for a courier from my soul.
I long to dismount and go on foot.

Poor Yunus's self is held within the four elements.
With love, I long to go in secret to the soul's mystery.

47

My heart has caught fire, my innards burn — my liver is roasted.
The sherbet of the lovers is the cause of this anguish.

Some arrange love; some undo it.
Some walk about drunk — as though they were utterly in ruins.

The pen was struck with love — the world is love's captive.
Even Gabriel is a veil among the lovers.

The professors of the madrasas never studied this lesson.
They remained helpless — they never learned what chapter this is.

Azazil made his claim, and his claim turned out to be a lie.
The punishment of those who make false claims is torment.

The friends of this love do not die — the drunkards of the feast!
Their work is always music — the lute's strings and the rebab.

Yunus, be humble now — be a servant to the humble.
For the one who longs for the humble is Çalap himself.

48

The sovereignty is yours — you have the power.
You created the earth and sky — you have the majesty.

Without a sign, no one knows your sign,
though you have signs beyond all limit.

How could the tongue speak of your nature?
To put it into words, you have a thousand and one names.

Neither proportion nor comparison, neither pattern nor sign —
neither centre nor edge, neither limit have you.

Neither colour nor shape, neither body nor form —
neither height nor stature, neither likeness have you.

From your mercy upon all humans and jinn,
with gracious care, you have a noble generosity.

Neither this world nor the next, neither Qaf nor beyond Qaf —
these are drops; you have the ocean of sovereignty.

Neither end exists, nor boundary, nor place —
neither selfhood nor quality have you.

Minds are silenced by your nature —
for in a single mote, you have a thousand lessons.

From end to end, fully, over earth and sky,
this power of yours moves — you have a fine dominion.

Yours are the Throne and the Footstool, the Tablet and the Pen.
The spheres turn, the elements hold their place — you have a fine wisdom.

With these one hundred twenty-four thousand prophets,
you have communion at the Ascension and at Sinai.

All things are made obedient within your command.
To all your servants, you have generosity.

To the four hundred forty-four degrees of saints,
you have given miracles — they hold your grace.

Six thousand six hundred sixty-six —
the verses recited over the people, those are yours.

It is not enough for Yunus — O Most Merciful —
for all sinners, you have mercy.

49

God gave me a heart — before I can say "Ah!" it is struck with wonder.
One moment it is joyful; one moment it is weeping.

One moment you would think it winter — as though the bitter cold had come.
One moment it springs forth in glad tidings — a garden, an orchard.

One moment it cannot speak — it cannot explain a single word.
One moment it scatters pearls from the tongue — a remedy for the afflicted.

One moment it rises above the Throne; one moment it sinks beneath the earth.
One moment you would think it a drop; one moment it overflows and becomes the ocean.

One moment it stays in ignorance — it knows nothing at all.
One moment it dives into wisdom and becomes Galen and Luqman.

One moment it is a demon or a fairy — the ruins become its home.
One moment it flies with Bilqis and becomes the sultan of all living souls.

One moment it finds itself a beggar — naked, wearing a patched cloak.
One moment, with noble aspiration, it becomes the Emperor and the Khan.

One moment it becomes a rebel — God lets its mind go astray.
One moment its companion becomes devotion and faith.

One moment it ponders its sins and goes straight to Hell.
One moment it sees God's mercy and becomes Ridwan at the gates of Paradise.

One moment it goes to the mosques and presses its face to the floor.
One moment it enters the monastery, reads the Gospel, and becomes a monk.

One moment it becomes Moses and makes a hundred thousand prayers.
One moment it enters the house of pride and becomes Pharaoh with Haman.

One moment it comes like Jesus and brings the dead to life.
One moment it comes like the lost — wandering, bewildered on the road.

One moment it turns to Gabriel and scatters mercy on every gathering.
One moment it goes astray — poor Yunus, lost in wonder.

50

My heart and my eyes are full of love.
My tongue speaks of the Friend; my face is wet with tears.

My body burns like aloe-wood —
its smoke rises to the skies, a morning breeze.

Chain-mail cannot withstand this fire of love.
Its arrow sinks into the soul — the blade is sharp.

Your love is the sea, and I am a little fish.
When the fish leaves the water, it dies at once.

I call out to my King in my own tongue.
My King says to me: "Come, stay a while."

Can those who love you keep their wits?
If they are sane for a moment, they are mad for a lifetime.

Yunus, offer your prayers for Tapduk —
the arena of the lovers is greater than the Throne.

51

O Friend, I love you — within the soul, you have your place.
Night and day I cannot sleep — what a strange state I am in.

While you can see the rose, do not reach for the thorn.
Why fear the enemy, when you have a true Beloved?

The enemies say to me: "Who are you to speak?"
Who am I to speak? I have a Master.

Whatever comes into your hand, spend it on the poor.
However long you live, death waits at the end.

The one who sees only themselves — that is the one left on the road.
I swear by God, I am indebted to an ant.

At dawn, when I rise, I sing like a nightingale.
Meaning grows in the heart — I have a pained and burning liver.

Yunus Emre, press your face into the dust.
I have a humility that befits the Beloved.

52

You are the soul of my soul — without you, I have no peace.
If you are not in Paradise, I swear, I have no desire for it.

When I look, my eyes see you; when I speak, you are my word.
I have no better occupation than watching for you.

When I speak, you are on my tongue; when I stand alone, you are in my heart.
My heart and my eyes love you — I have no other gaze.

Since I have forgotten myself — gone to you entirely —
in what state or condition I am, I have no peace for a moment.

Even if you killed me seventy times, like Cercis,
I would turn back and come to you — for I have no shame.

I saw you like the sun — Paradise became a prison to me.
Leave Paradise to the ascetics — I have no longing for it.

Yunus, too, is your lover — show him your face.
You alone are my Beloved — I have no other vision.

53

Let me tell you what that heart-charmer did to me —
with every new coquetry, she makes me captive anew.

Wherever I look, it is she who appears before my eyes.
That sovereign's grace has made me see in just this way.

However long my life, my freedom is impossible.
Who can take the prey from the hunter's hand once it has fallen in the trap?

If you are wise, do not come to me and ask of her nature.
How can I give you a sign? She has no likeness — she is beyond compare.

All were promised they would see her tomorrow.
But my Beloved is right here — that Omnipotent One appeared to me here.

Since Yunus turned his face to the Ka'ba of love with all his soul,
the thorns of the desert became silk beneath his feet.

54

O you who seek God night and day — do you not know where God is?
Wherever I am, there God is present; wherever I look, there God is.

Do not seek God far away — the heart is God's dwelling place.
Let go of your selfhood — God is within the body, in the soul.

Enter the heart, and you will find Sinai. Roll up the ledger of "you and I."
The jewel is in the saint's heart — do not think it lies in the ocean.

In that ocean, a hundred thousand jewels look like a single drop.
That soul knows no passing of time — the soul bound to time is the animal soul.

Wherever the eye may look, Çalap is absolutely present.
The soul that has not found God — its profit is gone, it lives in loss.

Lay your outer form in ruins — the one who arrives is the soul's secret.
The inner eye is the one that sees the Friend; the outer eye is lost in the wilderness.

When your form is in ruins, the garden of your heart becomes Paradise.
The treasure of the soul lies in the ruin — for this treasure is always in the ruins.

Whoever passes in heedlessness — their soul drinks the water of decay.
The dervish's secret soars above the Throne, though the truth stands on the face of the earth.

Poor Yunus, open your eyes and look — both worlds are full of God.
Burn your doubt in the fire of sincerity — God is hidden in the open.

55

Separation scars my breast — what do the sound ones know of its worth?
Since I have not seen you, Friend, my eyes weep tears of blood.

My tears flow like a flood; life passes like the wind.
Your smiling face is like the rose — what does it know of these passing ages?

The nightingale is the rose's mate — that is why it cries.
The rose garden is its home; the orchards cannot hold it.

What does the nightingale care for honey and butter? Let the rose bloom for it!
Know this: the burden of the lover — not even the high mountains could bear it.

The lover bears the burden of love and rises higher than the heights.
She sees the Friend's face and looks — the heart binds itself to the Beloved.

Dervish Yunus came humbly; his devotion remained with the Beloved.
He found what his heart loved — and with that, he bound his heart.

Poem 56

If you are truly a lover, what is that charter around your neck?
If you are faithful to God's road, what is this error, this deceit?

Your heart must break; all your devotions are corrupt.
Until your worship passes beyond itself, what excuse do you have from God?

Since your name became So-and-So, your whole life became a lie.
Let one who knows the meaning tell us: what is hidden in reality?

Abandon the body's arrangements; let the name of selfhood go from you.
When your inside is not flourishing, what good is the outside's ornament?

You say, "My eye sees," your claim reaches inner meaning.
By day the sun gives light — what is that fire burning in the night?

Each day one of your people goes; your neighbors are departing.
Death is swallowing them one by one — what is this pride in the world?

You have held your faith with unbelief; give your doubt to plunder.
Bring us your proof — let us see — what exactly is the news?

You were nothing, and you became alive — open your eyes and walk the road.
Understand this secret: what is the clear news you are gazing at?

Let me tell still closer news, that you may understand the plain truth:
What is "the Eternally Forgiven" but one who abandons the ego's desire?

If you are a believer, come here — let the Almighty be your fortress.
Let us take pride in the Guide — let it be known what a denier is.

The one who said "Yes" here — there, their work is complete.
For those who seek a sign from us: what is Hallaj al-Mansur?

Yunus, now speak the Truth — God has become your cupbearer.
Remove the doubt from your heart — what is this denial in your hand?

Poem 57

Among the gnostics, let them not peddle false piety.
With sincerity into this love, let them not mix pretense.

Either speak what you know, or listen to one who knows.
Hold fast to the rope of surrender — let them not stretch out words.

The Quran said, "My speech"; to the heart He said, "My house."
One who does not know the heart's owner — let them not cling to mere form.

A heart that broke found itself — it was close to God.
Saying "I will mend it again," let them not tear what is whole.

The Law is waxed honey; the Way is butter without dregs.
Honey for the Friend and butter — why should they not blend them?

The gnostic gives his soul and feels no pain; the liar will not spend a coin.
Let them not hold the false and the true as equal.

If you could sense its worth — how much this moment costs!
Let them not sell the saints' meaning for cheap gems.

Poor Adam slipped — he ate the wheat in Paradise.
Those who know the work is God's — let them not blame the devil.

Make your manners sweet; speak your words with honey.
In gatherings, let them never forget Yunus.

Poem 58

One who does not enter this whirling dance shall regret it in the end.
Whoever contends with us becomes, head to foot, an enemy.

It is the Friend who calls us, who sings above us.
But the one who reads three and a half pages now calls himself a scholar.

The ignorant scholar does not approve of dervishes.
Between dervish and scholar, the quarrel grows fierce.

In some hearts, devils have filled up and settled.
When the saints whirl, these are the ones who laugh.

The scholar came with his learning, found what he read.
The man of pain — his soul entangles with the dervishes.

O helpless scholar, say: the dervish among dervishes!
Whoever reaches the dervishes — he repents of his former business.

Yunus says: Mevlana, sit quiet in your place.
One who cannot bear this gathering becomes a quarreler later.

Poem 59

The heart of the man of love is full — it is the treasury of the King.
A loveless man, what can he understand? Love is the meaning of the Law.

Love is the lovers' remedy; from love their desire is fulfilled.
The company of the lover is a calamity to the loveless.

Some love women and children; some love estate and household.
Some love capital and shop — this world shifts from state to state.

What does the lover want with this world? In the end, one day he leaves it.
He has seized the hem of love and goes — whoever comes, he greets them.

At the Feast before time, the King handed me a cup.
Since I drank it, I have been sighing — I do not know what calamity it is.

Since from eternity, Yunus, your soul was intoxicated with love.
At His threshold, at every breath, bewildered and astonished it remains.

Poem 60

Hear, O elders — the end of time shall come.
True Muslims are scarce — even that shall be in doubt.

The scholar reads but does not practice; he does not watch the dervish road.
These people will not hear counsel — what harsh times shall come.

The lords' generosity is gone; they have each mounted a horse.
What they eat is the poor man's flesh; what they drink shall be blood.

The real man came from the Real and drew his hand from evil.
The Antichrist shall rise from the earth — the last days shall come.

Strange creatures have arrived, striving with their eyes shut.
The lawful and forbidden are mixed — gain and loss shall be one.

They think each other wicked; they think what they did will stay.
Tomorrow, on the Day of Assembly, their business shall be laid bare.

O Yunus, now — let your days pass with love.
The One you love shall become the soul of your soul.

Poem 61

O Friend, all this talk and speech — the aim is but one message.
All this seeking and searching — for the seer, it is one glance.

Crossing mountains, uprooting trees, spending labor on distant places —
What you seek is right here: what a strange journey this is.

Do not seek Him far away — He is the soul within your soul.
He is with you — not seeing Him is blindness.

Do not go on distant travels — your life is passing, death arrives.
The Friend is here, He loves seclusion — what is all this noise and ruckus?

He is closer than your soul — keep your manners, keep your caution.
If you know the right of friendship, He is always your companion.

Your tongue says, "God is present" — then why is your ear deaf?
You deny your own words — by God, this business is perilous.

You sleep; He is awake. Know your faults plainly.
How else will I find a witness? He is both companion and keeper of secrets.

The mosque and school are in you, yet you wander scattered.
You have stayed far from this practice — this business is truly hard.

One who wears the garment of unity, who counts their existence as nothing —
One who stands firm on this road: know absolutely, that one is the real man.

When those works are completed, when that harmony is gathered,
When the veil is wiped from your eyes — earth and heaven are full of the Face.

Yunus, entering with his pain, on the road of love, breath by breath,
Counting his existence as nothing — he waits for the Beloved.

Poem 62

What do the weary know of this love?
How can those who walk this road without provision endure?

Come, let us go and see Joseph —
From the banquet of his beauty, a thousand hungry souls are fed.

In that land of unity, the rose has no thorn.
Honey abounds on its tongue; modesty glows on its face.

On the mountain of lovers, in the garden of the Beloved,
They have spread their branches — walking without feet.

Since love appeared among the ruined ones,
What do they care for shame? — let them wash away this color.

If only I could see Him with these eyes —
But these eyes cannot bear it; thick veils cannot endure.

Let us leave ourselves behind; let us become them.
Those who sense the oneness — let them abandon duality.

Yunus, become one; become the secret in the heart.
Those who are dervishes — let them sense this secret.

Poem 63

One who gives his heart to this world shall regret it in the end.
Those who said "The world is mine" — it shall become their enemy.

O you who take your friend for an enemy, do not speak slander and lies.
One who plays the informer here — there, his place shall be narrow.

Since his place shall be narrow, each earns according to his earning.
News has come to the believers: the lovers shall see the Face.

Our aim was the Face; our shaykh was a real man.
He existed in the beginning; He shall exist in the end.

He is the last; He is the eternal; on tongues He is "the One without equal."
The saints have passed from the world — who will it remain for, even an hour?

Take the hand of the saints; go straight on God's road.
This is the meaning — know it well: one who says "I know" shall not know.

Yunus, now do not say "I know" — do not let go of humility.
Whoever has humility within — that one shall see the Face of God.

Poem 64

Those who deny the saints rebel against God's road.
One who rebels against that road — it is the rust on their heart.

We bore the torment of this love until we reached the Beloved.
For the Friend is the remedy of my pain.

Before this earth existed, before the heavens were created,
The homeland of the saints was the King's fortress.

Since Mevlana Hudavendgar cast his gaze upon us,
His beautiful gaze is the mirror of our heart.

Be humble to that Friend, be humble — let pride and malice leave you.
The wind comes and passes — for whom then does it remain?

That Hasan of the Deer-fold spoke his words from within himself.
It is the tongue of Divine Power that speaks — what are his own words?

He read but did not stray; he stumbled but did not go astray.
Yunus, these words of love — whoever knew them, knows.

Poem 65

Do you know, O friends, where the true saints are?
Wherever I look, He is present; wherever I seek, He is there.

Whoever loved the Friend — let them abandon hearth and home.
Not everyone can love the Friend — the love of the Friend is in the soul.

My words to the loveless are like the echo off a cliff.
One who has not a speck of love — know well, they are in the wilderness.

Do not practice falsehood; do not say love is a lie.
One who tells lies here — there, his place is in the dungeon.

O you who do not know yourself, who do not grasp the meaning of the word —
If you seek the reality of God, look: it is in knowledge and the Quran.

To the one who says "God is mine," He has given the reality of love.
To whomever He gives even a speck of love — the Lord's reality is in that one.

Many say to Yunus, "You have grown old — abandon love."
Love struck us when we were young — it is still in its first vigor.

Poem 66

Hear, O friends — love resembles a sun.
A heart without love resembles a stone.

What grows in a stone heart? Poison drips from its tongue.
However softly it speaks, its speech resembles a quarrel.

The heart that has love burns — it softens, it becomes like wax.
Stone hearts have darkened; they resemble a harsh, hard winter.

At the Sultan's gate, in the Presence of the Lord,
The star of the lovers resembles at every moment a herald.

The one whose very essence is greed has remained captive to his ego.
He has become his own enemy — he resembles an evil companion.

Love is the bellows of Divine Power; it boils the lovers.
Through how many vessels it passes them — and then they resemble silver.

The lover's heart does not rest until it finds the Beloved.
It has no peace in this world — its flight resembles a bird's.

The denier does not know his own words; his speech goes nowhere.
What would you compare it to? It resembles an unintelligible dream.

Pass beyond anxiety, Yunus — what need is there for this trade?
A man needs love first — then he resembles a dervish.

Poem 67

Suddenly from the Beloved's land, news reached this soul:
"In this realm of ruins, do not linger — arise and journey."

This realm of ruins — its garment is blame.
Blood is spilled, scattered — a hundred thousand heads are lost.

The furnaces of this place are the rose-gardens of the lover.
There nightingales burn their wings and feathers in the fire of love.

I saw seven seas there — one of them was made of fire.
They say the road of the ruined ones passes through it.

I saw there: the twin tresses of the Friend are hung around the soul's neck.
With a single hair, a hundred thousand Mansurs are hung on the gallows.

I asked there: is there release for the lovers from this bond?
They said: there is none — the Beloved holds the end of the rope.

In the company of Shah and Sultan, a cup of light is passed.
The cupbearers cry out: who drinks from the Friend's hand?

He gave his existence to plunder — the meaning of the Messenger was reached.
Enter through that door and go within — arise, take heed.

If you ask Yunus where he gets these words,
Perhaps he recites from the register of love's court.

Poem 68

They have given the name "love" to every kind of suffering.
Those who endured this suffering reached intimacy with the Friend.

Whoever reaches love, love makes peace with them.
Whoever seeks love — they have set their soul on fire.

Whoever clashed with love, in that moment they boiled and overflowed.
Some say "mad," some say "wise" — they stood on every side.

Love is disaster and affliction — it turns you from state to state.
A cup from the Friend's hand — they became beautifully disgraced.

Love is Yunus's soul, the end of all his affairs.
The man who denies love — they have driven him from this arena.

Poem 69

The parable of this world resembles a great city,
But our lifetime resembles a hasty market.

Whoever came to this city stayed but a moment.
Their departure, with no return, resembles a journey none comes back from.

The first taste of this city is sweeter than honey and sugar.
But see its final bitterness — it resembles snake venom.

At first it steals the heart like beautiful ones.
In the end, its turning away resembles an old trickster.

The phantoms of this city, its manifold states —
It has deceived the heedless; it resembles a sorcerer and a thief.

In this city, the phantoms are without limit or count.
Whoever is deceived by these phantoms resembles grazing livestock.

Three roads lead out from this city: one to Paradise, one to the Fire.
The desire of the third resembles the longing for the Face.

This city has a Sultan whose grace extends to all.
The one who comes to know the Sultan — from nothing, they come to resemble being.

The one who knows their own measure knows their own state,
But with love, it resembles the first spring.

See helpless Yunus — he has become bewildered with longing.
His every breath resembles honey and sugar.

Poem 70

Friend, the arrow of your love — so keen it passes through stone.
The lover who falls into your love passes beyond life and head.

Those who fall into your love — their hearts burn.
The one who gives themselves to you passes beyond all work.

Night and day they weep, through your love they become the Friend.
The one whose care is you passes beyond all worry.

To the gnostics, this world is like a phantom and a dream.
The one who gives themselves to you passes beyond phantom and dream.

The love of this world resembles poisoned food.
The one who reckons on the end passes beyond the poisoned food.

The one with sense in their head does not work for the Hereafter's sake.
They are not deceived by Houris — they pass beyond eye and brow.

The true lover is the one who hastens to give their life.
For a moment's trade with the Friend, they pass beyond a thousand heads.

Yunus's heart and eye are full of love for the Truth.
The one who chooses companionship passes beyond stranger and acquaintance.

Poem 71

Let us say God always —
Let us see what God does.
Let us stand firm on the road —
Let us see what God does.

Cry out saying "God" —
He is the wealth of all.
Let us hope for mercy from Him —
Let us see what God does.

Let us not remove Him from our tongue,
Let us not part from the Friend,
Let us not stray from the road —
Let us see what God does.

The end of hunger is fullness,
The end of fullness is nothingness.
These roads are fearful —
Let us see what God does.

Where you least expect it,
The veil may suddenly open.
The remedy may reach the affliction —
Let us see what God does.

By day let us fast,
By night let us stand in prayer.
Let us say God always —
Let us see what God does.

His name and fame on every tongue,
His love in every heart.
On those fearful roads —
Let us see what God does.

I have scattered my name and fame,
I have cast my unbelief into the water,
I have taken up humility —
Let us see what God does.

Let us plunge at every moment into the sea,
Let us not be deceived by the world,
Let us bear the affliction patiently —
Let us see what God does.

I have left behind shame and honour,
I have cast my ashes into the water,
I have taken up the dervish way —
Let us see what God does.

Wandering like Majnun,
Having become a lover of the Friend —
Say, Yunus, you helpless one:
Let us see what God does.

Yunus, do not think it is only that —
This love comes to you from you.
The soul is from Him for all —
Let us see what God does.

What has this Yunus done, what has he done?
He went on a straight road.
He seized the hem of the Masters —
Let us see what God does.

Poem 72

O King, O King — your work is ever set aright.
The world is His garden — He gathers what He loves.

Do no evil, take care — death is nearer to you than yourself.
How many a root and foundation it has consumed and destroyed.

You will go there — make much preparation here.
Souls do not last in the body — they wander here but a few days.

The questioner comes, tearing through the earth, asking: "Who is your God?"
When my soul perceives this, my bones ache.

O you who know God as One, you who sacrifice your soul to the Truth —
These souls are not dead — they swim in the lake of love.

I have seen it: the saints took flight and drank the cup of love to the full.
Their favour was accepted by the Truth — yet still they press their face to the ground.

If you are the servant of the saints, accept your death, Yunus.
How many saints have come and gone — the turn now rests with us.

Poem 73

No matter how I guard this house of my heart — love overflows from within.
No matter how high I walk, love descends upon my head.

No matter how I say, "I will tell my secret to no one" —
My patience and composure leave — the Friend falls before me.

I know my own state — what man knows it as I do?
To the one who sees what I love, what love is — it delights them.

How can the one who has seen the Friend's face be patient?
The one who says "I have seen the Reality" is bewildered beyond themselves.

The Beloved's self-disclosure comes in manifold colours.
In one gesture, a hundred thousand hearts forever come to boiling.

Whoever's eye falls upon such a King —
Even if they are the Sultan of the age, they lose their wits.

My affair with the Friend is like cloud and sun.
One moment the veil is drawn aside — one moment the covering descends.

If you ask me: that person has no soul
Whose heart is troubled by anything beyond loving the Beloved.

Strange — poor Yunus has perhaps loved beyond love itself.
For nothing is greater than this love — it descends upon the head.

Poem 74

At dawn I went to the graves — I saw all of them lying dead.
Each one helpless, having squandered their life.

I went beside them and beheld the majesty of death.
So many young ones who never reached their desire lie dead.

Worms and birds have eaten them, lizards pierce the liver of many.
Those tiny unripe ones lie faded like roses.

Their bodies have fallen to the earth, their souls have reached the Truth.
Do you not see? The turn has come and lies waiting for us.

Their pearl teeth are dissolved, their golden hair has fallen.
All their anxieties are finished — the Truth has taken their being.

The darkness of their eyes has gone — they have no reason to rise.
The shroud, a rag of linen, lies wrapped around the bones.

Yunus, if you are wise in this world, do not adorn the realm with image.
Those who adorned the realm with image lie as black earth.

Poem 75

The fire of love in my heart — what it does, what it does.
Today I saw a lover who speaks news of my affliction.

Come, you afflicted ones, come — take some of this affliction of mine.
The afflicted know the afflicted's state — what do the un-afflicted do here?

Some have seen the Friend's face; some have said, "I shall yet see."
The lover has reached the Beloved — and look, again they make a feast.

Today I have become Mansur — what shall I do? Let me see my master's face.
My aim was this: to arrive. The lover still speaks their pain.

Yunus says: I have become a lover, I have died of the Beloved's affliction.
I turned my face to the Beloved — with Him my heart finds ease.

Poem 76

Wretched children of Adam — they have become enslaved to the self.
Like beasts and animals, they have been left to graze.

They never reckon on their death, never remember the day they will die.
They do not tire of this world — heedlessness has taken their sense.

The young take no counsel, the youths do not repent.
The old perform no worship — a bitter wind is blowing.

The lords have strayed from their path — they do not know the poor man's condition.
They have left the lake of mercy and plunged into the lake of the self.

Yunus speaks from the learned: beware the oppressor.
Stand in fear of death — all who are born have died.

Poem 77

At this moment I turn my face and stand — my moon rises new at every moment.
Every moment is a feast for me — my summer and winter are a new spring.

No cloud can cast a shadow on my moon's light.
Its fullness never wanes — its radiance dawns from sky to earth.

Its light drives darkness from the chamber of the heart.
How can darkness and light fit together in one chamber?

However the moon first rose, it never again waned.
Its life never diminished for anyone upon whom it cast its gaze.

I saw my moon on the earth — what do I seek in the sky?
My face should be toward the earth — mercy rains on me from the earth.

My word is not about moon or sun — for lovers, one word suffices.
If I do not speak of my Beloved, the pain of love will strangle me.

If I describe His qualities, people think I praise a mortal beloved.
There is no need to praise Him — His own light praises itself.

What if Yunus has loved? There are many who love the Truth.
He has seen the lovers — and for that reason bows his neck.

Poem 78

For God's sake, O soul of my soul — if it is suffering, enough, it suffices.
Is there any torment worse than separation from you?

The fire of your love burns in my heart — the world is witness.
Wherever a fire burns, there is a sign: smoke rises.

Your love's army has attacked the realm of my heart.
You have taken my soul captive — what can the enemy Tatar do to me?

Let me send death to the realms, let me counsel the lovers:
"From the Beloved, take heed — She plays and casts the lover's heart."

Strange that no remedy is found for this affliction of mine.
Who will find a remedy for the one that She holds close?

It is the custom of sultans: when servants sin,
They either punish their servant or put them up for sale.

Yunus, do not complain saying, "I suffered cruelty from the Friend."
Every lover's need is fulfilled in the Beloved's presence.

Poem 79

O Friend, my heart — O Friend — see what things there are.
Among these people there are those who laugh at us.

Let the laughers laugh — let the Truth be ours.
What does the heedless one know? There are those who love the Truth.

This road is long, its stations are many.
There is no crossing — there are deep waters.

We entered this road together with love.
There is one who sends us forth with exile.

Let whoever is brave come to the arena.
Let them not cling to life — who has the skill?

Eyes weeping, livers torn —
They have become bewildered. There are madmen here.

Yunus, do not seek the arena here.
Within the arena there are already brave ones.

Poem 80

The saints who come to love drink poison like sweet wine.
The streams that do not reach the ankle wage war against the sea.

We have not wearied of this road, nor tired of the saints.
We have called no one evil — whatever one does, another does in kind.

We gave the scorner his answer; with words we struck his face.
Like a wild beast of the wilderness, the knowing ones slip free of him.

Those who will not come to this gathering, who will not breathe the breath of the Truth —
drive them away. Let them go. If they linger, they make much trouble.

He is ignorant — he takes nothing from meaning. He sits, but his peace will not come.
He does not think he will die — he makes a hundred thousand years of turmoil.

However high the mountain, the road passes over it.
My Yunus Emre shows the road to the roadless and makes them whole.

Poem 81

That Pride of the World, Muhammad, is the chief of the prophets.
Give your blessings with love — he melts away sins.

God praised him when He made him, loved him, and said: "My Beloved."
Every flower on the face of the earth is the sweat of Mustafa.

When Gabriel summoned Muhammad to the Ascent —
what he asked for in his Ascent was the provision for his people.

Be his follower — he will not leave you deprived.
Whoever is of his community, the eight Paradises are his place.

Whoever holds fast his practices and his obligations —
what can I say? In the end he is safe from the reckoning.

Guilty or guiltless, the sinner hopes for his intercession.
Those who burn in Hell — theirs is the denier's denial.

My Yunus Emre spoke this word from within the soul.
The one who speaks is helpless Yunus — my Tapduk Emre's mystery.

Poem 82

I was walking on the face of the earth when I came upon them — estates lie here.
Some great, some small — their belts well fastened — mighty lords lie here.

Some young, some old, some viziers, some scholars —
their days have turned to night. So many lie here like this.

Their roads ran straight, their hands held pens,
their tongues were like nightingales — wise young men lie here.

Great and small have wept and laid the heroes down.
At the head of each they broke their bows — the broken arrows lie here.

The dust of their horses' hooves, their front lines drum-bearing,
their decrees written for nation and day — magnificent lords lie here.

Night and day their little children sang like nightingales —
now parted from their mothers, they guard their graves; they lie here.

Their hands hennaed, their handmaids dutiful,
tall as reeds, rose-faced — the ladies lie here.

All have folded their hands. Their hope is in God, in Chalap.
Some are servant-attended girls, some still unbetrothed — so many lie here.

Yunus does not know his own state — God, Chalap, makes his tongue speak.
Some are new brides — white-veiled faces lie here.

Poem 83

Why do you stare at the stone gate? Enter inside — see what roams.
Greed sits in permanence, lines are drawn, sedition schemes.

Come now — come to contentment. Do not be heedless — mount quickly.
Lest death arrive and the market turn corrupt.

Wherever you stand, stand with surrender, lower than all.
Be not vexed by these words of mine — see how the corrupter burns.

Avarice and envy — there they stand, exceeding all limits in their contest.
Dig out their roots, throw them to the wilds. Sit free, O bearer of sorrow.

Leave this gate of nothingness; learn the courtesy of the Friend.
You say: "Ask — seek me." But whoever comes to me is weary of speech.

Pride and ego are the sheriff, and their companion is the madman.
Be not their partner — whoever follows them strays from the road.

Hypocrisy crouches in a sunken place — beware, it commands fire.
Sincerity comes and washes all clean. Yunus's road discerns it sharply.

Poem 84

This station of dervishhood is a wondrous station.
The one who would be a dervish needs livelihood first.

When livelihood is there, unity with the Truth follows.
Put possessions aside — servanthood to the saint is what is needed.

Serve the saint who sees from east to west.
When someone asks you for news, great humility is needed.

Be humble at least — walk far from selfhood.
Whoever carries ego in the heart is far from dervishhood.

The Truth said to the saint: "You are Mine" — and set His being in the saint.
The aspiration of the saints is a pillar from earth to sky.

The muftis have not read the charter of dervishhood.
Who can know this? It is a wondrous page.

O Yunus — if you are a gnostic, do not say "I understood, I knew."
Hold fast the hem of humility — in the end, it is what you need.

Poem 85

Listen, O companions — this is the time of the saints.
Let those who would live come — this is the time of the saints.

From eternity He laid the foundation; in six days the world was filled.
He commanded Israfil — this is the time of the saints.

Forty thousand and forty-four degrees — the sheikhs, the saints —
four gates and forty stations — this is the time of the saints.

A hundred and twenty-four thousand chosen prophets
commanded their communities — this is the time of the saints.

Yunus Emre, you are a lover — if you have endured love's blows,
call the lovers together — this is the time of the saints.

Poem 86

A loveless person in this world — know for certain — does not exist.
Each one loves something — each one is a lover.

In Chalap's world there are a hundred thousand kinds of love.
Accept it for yourself — see which one is worthy.

One is of the All-Merciful, the All-Compassionate;
one is of Satan the Accursed.
Each one's reward and punishment belongs to whichever love it serves.

This love came upon the Prophet's head in this world.
His interpreter was Gabriel; his Beloved was the Creator.

Omar, Osman, Ali — the companions of Mustafa —
the greatest of these four is Abu Bakr the Truthful.

When Muhammad, the Pride of the World, ascended to the Height,
what he asked from Chalap was provision for his people.

Yunus — watch your own faults. Let others be.
Do not look at anyone's faults — it is a shame.

Poem 87

Come, ask these souls — their forms, what became of them? Gone.
Day and night they were with you — what excuse did they find? Gone.

Is it any wonder if they go, if they leave their forms behind?
It is no falsehood, no lie, no absence — word came from the Friend. Gone.

Where is their property, their wealth? They left it all.
To the court of that King they took their character and deeds. Gone.

It was as if they were friends, as if many works had been arranged —
know for certain: the soul laughed at the form's beard. Gone.

They held their market; for a single coin they would break it all.
Weary of this world, they put on the sleeveless shirt. Gone.

A thousand set and a thousand rise — by command they came, it seems.
Who ever gets enough of this world? Their cup filled up. Gone.

Do not give yourself to heedlessness, worshipping the world.
Do you not see? Good and evil came to this world. Gone.

All the world holds hope — "I will see it in the hereafter."
Yunus says: the one who is a dervish found the Truth right here. Gone.

Poem 88

Hear my words, O heedless one —
rise at the dawn's hour.
So the Perfect One has commanded —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Listen — what does your rooster say?
At dawn your daily bread is given.
Turn your face to the Friend's court —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Hear my words, O deaf one,
that your scales may come down heavy.
Cry out to your Chalap, and plead —
rise at the dawn's hour.

The state of those who lie abed:
their hands reach nothing.
At dawn the wind of mercy blows —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Rise together with the birds.
Perform the prayer with the congregation.
Plead — and beg forgiveness for your sins —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Let the Quran and Ya-Sin be recited.
Prick your ears and listen.
Wash away your mountain of sins —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Let the hadith and the Word be recited.
Let them say: "Peace be upon him."
If you are a lover, let me know it well —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Paradise shall be yours to have —
in Paradise, the Houris to embrace,
the wine of Kevser to drink —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Poor Yunus, open your eyes.
Rouse yourself from heedlessness.
Then you will know who you truly are —
rise at the dawn's hour.

Poem 89

You are nearer to us than we are — yet You are unseen. What is the veil?
Since there is no flaw on Your beautiful face — what is the covering?

You said, O King: "God guides whom He wills."
You have no partner, O Shah — then who is guilty? What is punishment?

Who writes upon the Tablet? Who leads astray — or who goes astray?
Who arranges these affairs? What is the answer to this question?

The Merciful is Your name. You told us of Your mercy.
The guides gave glad tidings: "Do not despair." What is this address?

These affairs — You know them. You give. You take.
Whatever You will, You do. Then what is this questioning and reckoning?

We hope for Your generosity — all affairs come from Your presence.
From Your great mercy — what is this handful of dust?

Once You spoke "Be!" and brought all things into being.
Then again with one final word You bring them to ruin — what is this?

Where is the Sultan of this realm? If it is the body, then where is the soul?
This eye desires to see Him — what is this return, this refuge?

Yunus — this eye does not see Him. Those who see Him give no report.
The mind does not reach this station. What is this mirage You have placed?

Poem 90

In truth, love is the soul of every body.
What soul! — the soul within the soul is love.

This soul merely keeps my body standing.
That soul — what shines forth and what hides — is love.

All things are helpless in the hand of love.
What mystery! — all things are dizzied by love.

No one knows where this love resides.
Those who know its limit — that limit is love.

Now through Majnun's eyes it becomes Layla.
Now it becomes the wonder-struck one — Layla's love.

Now tears of blood flow from Jacob's eyes.
Now it becomes Joseph of Canaan — love.

In Jesus's breath it raises the dead.
Now it becomes Moses son of Amram — love.

"I am the Truth!" cries from Mansur's tongue.
In Junayd, robe and gnosis — is love.

This love has many colours, many kinds.
Some are weeping — some are laughing — love.

May my soul and my religion be the price of this love.
For me, both religion and faith are love.

Not merely Yunus — a hundred thousand souls of Yunus!
Let him accept whatever sacrifice is love's.

Rend the robe of your body with love.
Plunge into it — for it is the ocean of love.

Poem 91

Knowledge is to know — knowledge is to know yourself.
If you do not know yourself, then what is all this reading for?

The purpose of reading is for a person to know the Truth.
If you have read and still do not know — it is merely dry labour.

Do not say "I have read, I have known." Do not say "I have done much worship."
If you do not know the Truth directly, it is all effort wasted.

The meaning of the four Books is plain within a single alif.
You say "alif," O teacher — but what does its meaning mean?

Yunus Emre says: O teacher, go on a thousand pilgrimages if you wish.
Better than all of them is to enter a single heart.

Poem 92

O Friend, the fire of your love rends my liver to pieces.
My heart burns with your love — and the burning is sweet to me.

My burning in love's fire — that has become my laughter.
My weeping before you, Friend, brings battle to the deniers.

If I speak, my words are war; if I am silent, my liver splits.
The world is full of tricksters — from each one a stone comes flying.

See how the stones are hurled! For the Friend's sake, heads are seized.
They come and pierce the heart — one who shares your state draws near.

Who among those who know our condition denies love?
What we love is the Truth — to this crowd it is mere show of eye and brow.

How many sultans are laid low by the hand of this love!
Whoever falls upon this road comes to it slowly.

The saints did not linger here — they went on, they did not stop.
To those who truly love God, all the world comes as kin.

Poor Yunus, know your words — open those eyes to the Friend:
from whatever tower you gaze, the sun comes to that Sultan.

Poem 93

O teacher, the work of those who love is sighing and lamenting.
In longing for that Beloved, their tears become a spring.

Night and day they lament — it means they long to see the Beloved.
Those without love do not hear this news — they remain unknowing.

If you are a lover of the Face, do not put today off till tomorrow.
Those who enter love's marketplace become weary of themselves.

Abandon your selfhood — find His love, find Him.
One who dies inside this love — the blood-price is the Face.

Lovers become placeless — they abandon the world.
What are soul and world when one is trading with the Friend?

When love becomes your companion, all work becomes easy.
When the goal comes to hand, the journey leads to the Friend's land.

Where is the true lover — where? Come, let us seek them!
Helpless Yunus's soul is scattered on the Friend's road.

Poem 94

What has not come will never come — who bowed in worship found.
Who built this inn of a world? What is Solomon to this kingdom?

Its crookedness more crooked than the bow, its straightness truer than the arrow:
in this city the thief is both judge and sultan — what is that?

It is in you — not foreign to you — plain, not a miracle.
This is the Word, not mere proof — what is the ocean within the sea?

Before the raw was cooked, before the pot boiled over,
before the spirit reached the body, before falling into the womb — what is the one who dies unborn?

O Yunus Emre, when you were a child you understood nothing.
What is the one who discovered all sciences, who taught and made them known?

Poem 95

It wails as much as the nightingale wails —
it is not the nightingale that does it: the rose does it.

Whenever it sees the Friend's face in the rose,
it cries out: "This is what drives me mad!"

What does the poor nightingale see in the rose
that it makes such uproar before the garden?

What did Majnun see in Layla's face
that he shed his tears in floods and torrents?

What appeared to Farhad's eyes
that he cut through rock to make a road to the beloved?

What appeared to King Abraham's eyes
that he scattered his crown and throne to ruin?

Making some infidel, making some Muslim —
no one does this: only He does it.

To some He gives suffering and never makes them groan.
Of some He makes their suffering plentiful in the world.

Do not say "Some are rich, some are poor" —
whether rich or poor, He does it.

To some He gives not a single cloak to wear.
For others' horses He makes saddlecloths of silk.

Some He creates as beasts in this world.
Some He makes sincere servants unto Himself.

Some He takes by the hand and lifts to the Throne.
Some He strikes to the ground and makes black ash.

Do not speak helpless Yunus's golden words to a fool —
he will make them counterfeit coin.

Poem 96

Those who are dervishes tend to go mad.
One who does not know what love is tends to laugh at them.

Beware — do not laugh at them. It is not good for you.
What a person laughs at tends to come upon their own head.

Ah, the mark of this love — upon whomever it falls!
One who cannot endure its pain tends to be left on the road.

If a person falls in love and plunges into love's ocean,
within that ocean they tend to find the pearl.

The lover becomes placeless — they abandon the world.
Those who abandon the world tend to see the Face.

Dervish Yunus, you too — do not harm the dervishes.
The prayer of the dervishes tends to be accepted.

Poem 97

One who sets foot on dervishhood becomes sultan in every meaning.
However humble the dervish, his heart becomes a dwelling-place.

The dervish girds his loins and weeps abundantly.
Wherever the water-wheel turns, there becomes garden and orchard.

The true dervish shuns the dog — who feeds the dog drinks blood.
Give up feeding the dog: who feeds the dog becomes a kennel-keeper.

One who loves the world is no dervish — their dervishhood is not accepted.
Those who flee from dervishhood — their master becomes Satan.

Yunus, if you are a dervish, abandon the whole world.
Even if the world were Paradise, for dervishes it becomes a prison.

Poem 98

Again my heart has wandered forth —
it yearns for the Friend's face.
The heart cannot endure separation —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

Whoever is struck by this affliction
finds that grace among the saints.
When the curtain opens at last —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

Whoever is a true disciple,
let them gird their loins and take the road.
In whatever heart there is pain —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

My Friend has driven me mad,
taken my reason and my thought.
His image remains before my eyes —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

Before, my heart would say to me:
"I need horses and fine robes."
My Lord gave me a pain instead —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

Yunus's words reach their mark:
he moans until his soul is given,
until he dies and enters the grave —
it yearns for the Friend's face.

Poem 99

One who holds the saints' hem, who advances and reaches God,
who is plunged in Muhammad's light — that is the one who does not cling to this world.

Who wears rough cloth here? It is the one who wears fine silk there.
What is spoken on every tongue — that is the one who laughs at no one.

One who is Satan's companion here goes wretched there.
Whose face is darkened in the Presence — that is the one who had no gaze from the saints.

One who grieves only for the world, who clutches at piety when they see a mosque —
the one found faithless there is the one who did not know God as One.

One who holds duality in the heart, who sells their goods in this world —
who lies in Hell tomorrow is the one who did not pray here.

One who lies with the Houris, who is steeped in the fragrance of Paradise,
who sings like a nightingale there — that is the one who committed no adultery here.

One who is intimate of the Houris, who is companion of Muhammad,
whose faith is their road-companion — that is the one who did not lose the Way here.

Poor Yunus watches the road — gather yourself, O madman!
The nightingale of this rose-garden is the one who plucks no one else's rose.

Poem 100

The joy of earth and heaven is Mustafa.
The faithfulness of every covenant is Mustafa.

The full moon and the crescent are his brow and arch.
The light and radiance of the sun — is Mustafa.

God's Throne at his feet becomes the Footstool.
The farthest reach of the world is Mustafa.

Tomorrow at the Gathering he is the Intercessor — the Intercessor!
The water-bearer of the Eight Paradises is Mustafa.

For the helpless, sinning servants, tomorrow —
the one who shall intercede is Mustafa.

Tomorrow when the prophets stand helpless,
the one who takes them by the hand again is Mustafa.

Yunus, beseech and bring blessings upon God.
God's friend, God's beloved — is Mustafa.

Poem 101

We need the Face — we do not need the world.
We need the meaning — we do not need the argument.

For us this night is the Night of Power.
Let morning never come — we do not need the dawn.

Pour us from the sherbet of love, O cupbearer!
We do not need the Kevser in Paradise.

Let us drink from brimming bowls.
We never become drunk — we do not need the hangover.

If I fall sick with this pain,
let it give no recovery — we do not need the cure.

Not needed the friend, not needed the soul, not needed —
we need the Face: we do not need the dwelling-place.

Yunus has fallen drunk at the crossroads.
He calls out to his Tapduk — shame is not needed.

Poem 102

A single word can brighten the face of one who knows the art of speech.
A single word can set right the work of one who speaks it ripe.

A word can end a war. A word can cut off a head.
A word can turn poisoned food to honey and butter.

Ripen your words! Untie the unworthy ones!
Let your speech fall with wisdom — do not let a word cry out in haste.

Come, O brother, O sovereign — at least hear our words!
A single word can turn a thousand jewels and dinars to black dirt.

Know the moment for a word. Do not speak the worst of words.
A single word can make the Hell of this world into eight Paradises.

Walk on, walk your road — do not be heedless of yourself.
Be careful of your tongue: a single word can brand your soul.

Yunus, speak now from the resting-place of words, speak from their depths.
Beware — a single word can make you distant from that King.

Poem 103

God fills the world, yet no one knows God.
Seek Him from yourself — He is not separate from you.

You trust in the world. You say: "The provision is mine."
Why do you speak false, when nothing you say comes true?

The Hereafter is terribly far. Straightness is a fine weapon.
Separation is a harsh parting — no one who goes ever returns.

Everyone who comes to the world departs — each drinks the sherbet one by one.
This is a bridge: cross it. But the foolish do not know it.

Come, let us know one another — let us take things easy.
Let us love and be loved — the world remains for no one.

Yunus, if you understand the word, if you listen to the word's meaning:
you need a single deed. No one remains here.

Poem 104

What shall I do with this heart of mine — it will not stay with me.
It must have seen the Beloved's face, for no counsel can gather its wits.

For God's sake, O wise ones, give me back my heart!
It went and made friends with the Friend, and will not bend its neck to me again.

How can I make a life with such a heart?
It cast me into the wilderness and never comes to ask how I fare.

When my heart was my companion, I kept my fasting and my prayer.
Now all my order is ruined — I am heartless, my hand cannot reach.

My heart is inside with the Friend; I stand at the door, wailing.
If I cry a thousand years, it never asks, "How are you?"

If I say, "O heart, where are your duties, your obligations?"
It says, "There are none — do not fret, no deed can reach this love."

If I plead, "Come, let no debt remain on your neck,"
it snarls and curses and rages at me, saying, "O you who cannot see the Truth!"

One mouth is more blessed than another — perhaps your words will hold.
I have spoken a hundred thousand times, and my words will not enter its ear.

My heart and my soul have joined forces, those two —
they would abandon a hundred thousand Yunuses before lifting their gaze from the Friend's face.

Poem 105

How many in this world cannot wash clean their sin!
Their life passes in vain — alas, they do not even sense it.

Heedlessness has blindfolded the eyes of some —
if you tell them of the Truth's path, they cannot sacrifice even a thin bread.

This world is a bride arrayed in green and red —
a man gazing upon a new bride can never have his fill.

O how many lions death seizes and throws down!
A poor wretch cannot endure Azrael's claws.

Go now, poor Yunus — strip naked and take the road.
Even if a hundred armed men come, they cannot strip one who is already bare.

Poem 106

O you who call me good — I am the worst of all.
I take my forehead for the moon, these eyes of mine for stars.

In the city of this body, there is not half a farthing's worth of good.
The neighborhoods of my deeds lie deserted, one and all.

In cell and corner I have not been worthy of God —
in some is grief and separation, in some mere clever words.

The people all stand on their feet; I rushed to sit down.
I took the seat of honor — my cushion thick, my place smooth.

Since such fraud has come into my hands,
what further use to me are grief and separation, sighs and burning?

I do not speak impossible words to the people of wisdom —
for if I did, they would not believe that watermelons grew on trees.

I have read a book no pen ever wrote;
if I made it into ink, seven seas would not suffice.

For the sake of fasting and prayer, I drank wine and got drunk.
For the sake of prayer beads and prayer rug, I listen to the six-stringed kopuz.

If you understand the meaning of Yunus's words,
you will see the minaret of Konya as a needle.

Poem 107

My union with You cannot part from You;
life is with You — without You, one cannot come alive.

Within my eyes it is You who looks beside me;
if You do not look, my path does not appear.

My prayer is directed toward You;
the road that leads to You — without You, it cannot be traveled.

Where could I find myself apart from You?
Without You, by God, my life cannot continue.

My existence comes from You — I am but an instrument;
if the Craftsman does not wield it, the instrument cannot be set.

Instrument and motion are all Yours;
therefore no one can meddle in Your work.

If I travel, You become my companion;
if I stay, without You I still cannot abide.

Beyond Your oneness You have no partner;
none can bring deficiency — Your decree cannot be undone.

The people of the world are helpless within Your command;
who is there whose neck is not bent to Your service?

This "I" that I keep calling "I" — if it is truly mine,
then why is this selfhood not given to me?

Friends, the call has gone out, the door is open;
whoever comes to this door is not turned away deprived.

Yunus has drowned in this unity and gone;
his mind cannot revive enough to come back.

Poem 108

In every matter, O Almighty, we have known — no interpreter is needed.
In a heart where You are absent, even faith heard by the ear is not needed.

I have swallowed my corpse whole — I am a poor orphan, search for me.
I shall slay the dog of my ego — let it not come; setting it loose is not needed.

Whoever is left to his ego is no Muslim, even if he dies.
Let him do good — if he knows it from me, let him not linger; time is not needed.

Since the black beard has turned white and white has come to cover the black,
whoever Çalap has awakened — for that eye, mist is not needed.

Yunus smolders with his pain; from his heart the love of Truth springs.
He holds the hem of the saints — if he dies, washing is not needed.

Poem 109

Do not grieve over your sustenance — no one eats another's portion.
Do not grieve over your sustenance — the King never gives short measure.

If you seek counsel from me, I will tell you what I know:
this is the command of Çalap — fast, and perform your prayer.

Saying "I pray," do not come as a denier to the dervishes;
even if you pray a thousand years, your own prayer will not be granted.

The people who pray shall not be left empty-handed;
that King never turns anyone away deprived from His court.

Do not go and tell another a man's private words —
we have heard it from the elders: a gossip is worse than a swine.

Yunus cries out and says, "I am the servant of the dervishes!
Who is there in this world who does not serve the Sultan?"

Poem 110

This is a wondrous state — no one can reach this state.
Scholars lay their claims, but not every eye can see.

With learning and with wisdom, no one can reach this secret;
this is a wondrous secret — it will not fit in learning or in books.

One who has read the world's knowledge, who has grasped the secret of the four schools —
even he stands helpless on this road; he cannot lay a hand on this love.

The secret of this love is strange — seek this love in such a way:
unless Çalap gives it, not every eye can see.

Only that person sees it who dies before their death;
only those who do not cling to life receive this portion.

Whoever clings to life shall not reach the feast;
he falls into the Gathering and has not even one life left.

It is a hadith from Mustafa — with love he said "I affirm";
one sage in a thousand cannot look upon this and read it through.

Yunus, bind your soul fast; abandon what you know.
The form that has not been annihilated cannot reach its King.

Poem 111

Whoever says "I am a dervish" — on this path, shame is not needed.
The heart of those who are dervishes is wide — narrowness is not needed.

The dervish must be without self toward the heartless, tongueless toward the one who curses,
handless toward the one who strikes — to be equal with the crowd is not needed.

Let him not liken his work to the crowd's; let him sweep confusion from his heart.
A hundred thousand are one to the dervish — strangers in between are not needed.

If you are truly a dervish, the whole world is your kin;
exchange your meddling for good character — strangers in between are not needed.

The capital of those who are dervishes is humility;
besides humility, we need no wealth, no property, no city.

If you have taken the hand of a master, if you have given the master your heart,
if you have come with your word of honor, then denying the master is not needed.

Yunus, do not exaggerate the master you have seen — keep the one you saw as one;
saying "this one, that one" — scattering the dervish is not needed.

Poem 112

If my tongue is bound, no one says a thing to me;
if my heart is a wanderer, it will not rest anywhere in the world.

If my eye looks and weeps at what it sees,
if it calls what it saw "mine," it falls into fire and feels no shame.

If reason is in the head, and if in the heart it is its match,
if both are at one task, the enemy can do me no harm.

My enemy is my own ego — it is my greed and my fury.
Whoever follows greed and fury makes no place in hearts.

He who orders all hearts, who inscribes all manner of patterns —
when the soul parts from the body, why do these tongues not speak?

To make a place in hearts was given to Muhammad;
whoever is of Mustafa's community will not remain in Hell.

He is the one who slays, He is the one who gives life — Yunus, now be with the Truth.
No one besides the Truth can bring what does not exist into being.

Poem 113

What is this pain? — strangely, no cure appears.
Or what is this wound? — its hurt does not show.

My heart, strangely, never tires of love;
it goes and falls into love and does not blame me at all.

My heart turns back and gives me good counsel —
but a heart in love never tires of love.

The lover who clings to life is no lover;
whoever does not abandon the soul will not find the Beloved.

This is the bazaar of love — souls are sold here.
I put my soul up for sale, but no one will buy.

The lover is one who counts this world's goods
and the fear of the hereafter as less than a straw.

Beyond this world, beyond the hereafter,
the lover has a place no one knows.

They announce, "The lover has died!"
What dies is the animal — lovers do not die.

The arena of the lovers is higher than the Throne;
they swing their polo sticks — the ball does not appear.

My lord, if you are wise, walk your road;
here heads are lost, and blood is not asked for.

The gate of the saints is the gate of the Presence;
whoever comes to this threshold is not sent away deprived.

Yunus has drowned in this ocean and gone;
his mind cannot revive enough to come back.

Poem 114

No one knows us — we are within what matter?
Our greed is not rich, nor are we within the ego's grasp.

We have not come to disparage any person's fortune;
we are not deniers of the scholars, nor within the cross of the heretic.

We have known what this thing is — what of the world did we remain for?
Our desire is not for the ego — we are within the world's spectacle.

Yunus says, "O my sultan, I have a glory of another kind;
leave the world's gold and silver — we are not within its copper and tin."

Poem 115

Not one in a thousand of this people enters the path of the Merciful.
Come, show me one person who does not enter the path of Satan.

This people have prolonged their affairs, whether man or woman;
a person who is truly Muslim does not enter the path of rebellion.

All are heedless with heedlessness — what would the wise man do with heedlessness?
Even if you tell him a thousand times, the true fool does not enter the path of wisdom.

The heart is full of darkness, what it does is mere innovation;
what kind of community is this that does not enter the path of the Quran?

Come, Yunus, seek and find a servant pleasing to God;
when can a servant be accepted if he does not enter the path of the Sultan?

Poem 116

Our community is from another nation —
our faith and piety were never found in any creed.

In this faith and piety, in this world and the next,
among the seventy-two nations our signs are set apart.

Without dipping in the outward water, without hand or foot stirring,
without bowing the head to prostration — our worship is performed.

Neither Kaaba nor mosque, neither bowing nor prostration —
our communion with God is constant and urgent.

We need not go to the Kaaba, nor enter any mosque;
we need not bathe in water — our ailment is known to us.

However much water may purify, so long as the vile nature remains,
only God's grace can make us clean.

Who knows whose secret? — since this state cannot be reached,
tomorrow, there, it shall be plain who is Muslim, who apostate.

Yunus, let your soul be renewed, let the friendship be remembered;
if you listen with love, you shall know our power.

Poem 117

I am a Sufi among the people — the prayer beads never leave my hand;
my tongue speaks gnosis, but my heart never accepts it.

My certificate hangs from my neck, my worship is all ostentation;
my mind is elsewhere — my eyes watch no true path.

I speak of gnosis, I proclaim it loud and strong;
yet the pride will not leave my heart, to turn me toward humility.

A fine dervish I am — with no patience, and much denial on my tongue;
what enters my ears, my inner self never hears.

The world is a lamp that blazes — my heart watches over it;
what can I do? The fear of God never leaves my depths.

Those who see me kiss my hand and look upon my crown and cloak;
they suppose I am one who never commits even a grain of sin.

On my outside: worship; my conversation: sweet devotion —
but when it comes to the inner marketplace, a thousand-year swindler falls short of me.

Those who see me think me a saint — they greet me and blush;
I would take on great tasks, yet when the hand reaches out, the strength fails.

Outside I am a dervish, inside I am hollow; my tongue is sweet, my words are pleasant —
yet what I do, not even one who abandons his religion would do.

Yunus, present your deficiency to your God;
His generosity is great — what you have done, He does not do.

Poem 118

Once more the envoy of love has come, once more our arena is filled;
once more all four sides became a promenade, right and left alike.

Once more the gatherings were set, once more the vats were raised;
once more the cups were offered — our souls grew drunk.

The house was filled with love — great and small became lovers;
our souls grew bewildered, our composure scattered.

Some among us received from God, some were filled by God,
some became Solomon — those among us who mounted the throne of love.

Some among us became Layla, some became Majnun,
some became Farhad — those among us who tasted news of love.

Our arena became the true arena, our souls grew bewildered;
every moment a journey to the Throne — our assembly became the Presence.

We had fallen — He raised us; He showed us His unity;
He filled our depths with love — our faith became whole.

If you ask where the Friend is — wherever you seek, there He is;
in the heart and in the soul — no doubt remains in us.

Yunus speaks the qualities of love, brings news to the sincere;
the deprived burn — our hidden secret is revealed.

Poem 119

To the man of love, what is silk and what is sackcloth in this world?
For his heart was never rusted by pride.

Love is completed by deeds — if you are worthy, it suffices;
go naked if you will, or wear the finest robe.

If you wish to reach the station of freedom,
go to the house of contentment and hang your ego by the throat.

Join the existence of your ego to the Universal Mind;
exchange your being for nothingness — become the jewel, not the dross.

What washes all these sins of ours is humility.
Go, Yunus — be humble; come, mourn the bow of your greed.

Poem 120

One must ask those who know: what is this soul within the body?
The soul itself is God's power — what then is the blood in the veins?

Thought is a charge of the Subtle — anxiety is a mine of sorrow;
this sighing and wailing is the garment of love — what then is the Khan who sits on the throne?

Praise be to His unity — when we were nothing, He made us exist;
since at the root we are nothing, what is property and household?

Chalap set us forth saying "Go, behold the world!" —
this world itself is not eternal — what is Solomon to its kingdom?

Ask Yunus of Tapduk: what did he understand of this world?
This world has no permanence — what are you, and what am I?

Poem 121

He who placed love in the lover's soul — He is a most exalted Lord;
within my soul I have found Him — He is the soul of souls.

Our beloved companion is Mustafa — from him come devotion and loyalty;
whole in faith, pure in heart — he is our very belief.

This tongue's speech is among the people, but the Friend's secret is in the heart;
whatever the heart speaks to the Friend — that is the Quran.

For a moment I turned inward to my heart, I looked at that hidden page;
I struck open my secret to the world — it was a boundless ocean.

Come, let us plunge into the ocean, let us seek and find the jewel;
let us trade, let us become assayers — for it is an inexhaustible mine.

If you will not buy from us, then sell to us and we shall buy;
for this heart of ours is a shop with capital.

That the shop did not open, that its fragrance did not spread,
that its secret was not revealed — the lock was pride and rancor.

Since you crushed the neck of pride and ruined the house of greed,
you adorned the shop — let whoever will take: it is a mine.

Yunus, you have not yet awakened, you have not reckoned your own death;
until you come to this straight path, all your deeds are mere conjecture.

Poem 122

Word has come again from God: let the servants make ready, He has said;
let them rise and take the hand and hem of a saint, He has said.

Near is the end of our affair — the mufti and the pilgrim have gone astray;
he who wishes to see the Ascension, let him hold fast to humility, He has said.

We pass through this mortal world, we move to the eternal realm;
a gift is needed for the Friend — let him carry his load full, He has said.

This palace is not everlasting — first and last, all go there;
those who made no ready here, let them forget that house, He has said.

I love that servant of Mine who is poor and patient;
I have made a road from Me to him — let him go to My Ascension, He has said.

Those who earn with harshness and feed others with smiles —
I have lifted their veils: let them gaze upon My Face, He has said.

Let every person go to the Friend and give their gift to the Friend;
those who do not remember Me there, let them forget Me here too, He has said.

I did not feed a single hungry one, nor clothe a single naked one,
nor enter a single heart — then what shall He do with me? He has said.

Tell Yunus to rise and press his face to the earth;
let him give his counsel to himself, and hold to what he has learned, He has said.

Poem 123

Those who wish to find God, let them make the ego a dervish;
Chalap has given us a guide — if only I could become a dervish!

I cannot pass beyond the ego's road, I cannot drink the wine of love,
I cannot clear the darkness from my heart — if only I could become a dervish!

Shall I draw near to God? Shall I plunge into His mercy?
Shall I die without reaching? — if only I could become a dervish!

This strange passion has fallen upon me — my heart finds no rest;
I know that all my deeds are error — if only I could become a dervish!

If I could reach one who knows the Friend, if I could walk the Friend's road,
if I could let go of shame and reputation — if only I could become a dervish!

One day my work will be complete, and all I did shall be mere conjecture;
perhaps God's mercy shall be mine — if only I could become a dervish!

Even if they grant me mercy, my service was never complete;
O helpless Yunus, only this — if only I could become a dervish!

Poem 124

The roads of the saints are subtler than the subtle;
it was a mere ant that barred Solomon's way.

That ant spoke and told Solomon, "This is my road!" —
what the ant said was an answer still to be received.

No one bore another's burden for them;
those who say "I bore a heavy load" — their hands were only reaching.

Whoever says what to whom, whether good or evil —
God gives the recompense: the road ahead is subtle.

My heart said to me, "I love you" —
my heart's love for you was a reaching toward the Friend.

My heart says, "Let me go to you and come back again" —
what my heart follows in me was a finding of the Friend.

My companions say, "The lover needs blame" —
that word has come upon my head: it was a ripening.

The lover's tears pour day and night, never ceasing —
the lover's weeping of blood was a waiting until the Beloved asks.

I read and mastered the meaning of the four Books;
when it came to love, I saw: it was one great syllable.

Those who say "I am a dervish" — those who do not eat the forbidden —
the forbidden's not being eaten was a matter of what falls into the hand.

They say, "So-and-so has died — his property and wealth remained" —
that wealth's being startled was a waiting for its owner to die.

Two people converse: "I wish I could see Yunus," one says;
the other answers, "I saw him — he was an old lover."

Poem 125

I was sighing with my pain — my pain, it turns out, was my cure;
I was searching in longing — the Friend was hidden beside me all along.

Where was I? I was thinking, I was looking to the sky and giving thanks;
I was searching in longing — the Friend was hidden beside me all along.

I supposed myself separate — the Friend is other, I am other;
what cast me into this illusion was the very nature of being human.

The nature of the human is God Himself — God is in the human, look straight;
to the nature of this human, all the world stands amazed.

Whoever knows that human — even if an animal, they become human;
to all created servants, the human is a sultan full of sovereignty.

The entire world was unity — the one who knows unity is Adam;
the one who denies this unity was an enemy to his own soul.

The one who became truly human found God — the assembly is his, the cup-bearer is he;
this helpless Yunus, it turns out, was an intimate of love.

Poem 126

My beloved idol — what can I do? He is free of me;
what can I give to appear worthy? He is free of both worlds.

From whom shall I go to whom to tell my condition?
To whom shall I speak my word? He is free of speech and tongue.

Who in this world could enter the midst of this affair?
Who could issue a decree? He is free of sultan and khan.

Whether I become a Muslim and worship for a thousand years,
or whether I become an infidel — He is free of faith and disbelief.

Whether I guard the duties of the community,
or whether I chase fame — He is free of fame and creed.

Whether I mount the pulpit a hundred thousand times in religious learning,
or whether I harbor idolatry — He is free of idolatry and doubt.

How can I impress Him with commerce and trade?
He is so self-sufficient — He is free of profit and loss.

How can I make Him love me through servitude?
The chosen and the common all love Him — He is free of all who love.

Whoever gives their heart to such a Beloved —
numberless preparations are needed: He is free of this and that.

Yunus, if you love the true Beloved,
become ashes through dervishhood — free of being and place.

Poem 127

My inner burns, my self smolders — whenever I think of death;
how sweet is the thought of death when one consults the wise.

We shall die — it is plain and clear; our hidden selves shall become manifest
when we are laid upon the washing-board and washed before the people.

I do not know what I shall do, which direction I shall travel,
putting on the collarless shroud, mounting the headless horse.

My kin and kindred will come — companions to the grave;
but who will share my condition when I am left alone in my tomb?

I shall remain with my deeds, in whatever state I am,
while my kinfolk go laughing back toward home.

I tell you, O lord — see what shall come upon your head:
some whose livers cook with heat, some who grow drunk on wine.

Tomorrow the court of justice shall be set, all creation shall rise;
some shall burn in the cool breeze of the Decree, some in the searing fire.

Deeds shall give the answer there — the deed-less shall be rebuked;
no torment befalls the one who was freed here in this world.

Yunus, make ready now — look straight, lest you be shamed
when all creation rises and each is called by name.

Poem 128

Thanks be to the Truth, for the Friend said to us, "Look upon the Friend's face!"
I opened my heart's eye too, and saw my Sultan with certainty.

Since I beheld my Truth, I have become acquainted with the Truth;
wherever I looked, all that appeared was wholly the Truth.

The Truth's door of prayer stands open for His friends;
if you wish to be His friend, learn one lesson from the friends.

You are in the veil today — they will not show you to yourself;
understand what I call the veil: it is worldliness, far from sight.

Until you know yourself, until you gaze upon the saints —
unless you remove your selfhood from this middle ground, it becomes a trap.

Seven seas and four rivers could not cleanse you;
if your work is not with the Truth, you have remained far.

The saints are the Truth's door, and Yunus is its gatekeeper;
he came to this path through love, and made love his stopping-place.

Poem 129

Come, O my eye, weep — I shall not laugh anymore;
my soul goes to the Friend — I shall not return anymore.

What sorrow if I die once in this world?
There, death does not exist — I shall not die anymore.

I have exchanged my existence for nothingness;
today, I shall not linger for soul or head anymore.

I have become a diver of the sea of Love —
the Oxus is not needed — I shall not plunge in it anymore.

I have burned in Your love until I turned to ash;
I am dyed in Your colour — I shall not fade anymore.

Let me lie at the Friend's threshold;
one hand is enough — I shall not take another anymore.

Let my soul burn, let it burn in love's fire;
let my tears flow, let them flow — I shall not wipe them anymore.

Let me burn with my sorrows;
when I become a lover, I shall not die anymore.

I beg of Your grace: do not separate me;
Master, I shall love no other than You anymore.

Yunus is a lover — he seeks his Beloved;
I shall want nothing else anymore.

Poem 130

O you who read so many books — who are you to cast blame upon me?
That you may know the secret plainly: come, read one page of love.

Do not read the surface of knowledge; make knowledge into practice today;
open the inner eye of the heart — look upon the state of lover and Beloved.

See what the Beloved is about — the lover too is in that same work;
the two are in one secret business — do not think them two and stay far.

You could not pass beyond duality; you could not tell state from speech;
you could not fly toward the Truth — poverty has become your trap.

Robe, cloak, throne, and crown — these pay tribute to love;
four hundred disciples and fifty pilgrimages — Abdurrezzak abandoned them all.

A great elder of the faith like him kissed the cross and rang the bell;
you too, cast aside your reputation — burn the dog of the ego in the fire.

If you have come to yourself, if you know what attribute is,
if you have become obedient to the Truth — whatever you say to me is right.

You must not know ill-repute or fame; commoner and elite must be one to you;
if you have truly known the knowledge, come now, read one page.

In earth and sky, through love — every word that comes to the tongue comes from love;
helpless Yunus, what does he know? He has read neither black nor white.

Poem 131

Why should we claim to be the lovers? The whole world is in love with Him;
whom shall we say loves not? Each one is well-versed in truth.

Whoever loves the Beloved — it is necessary to love him too;
what business has a stranger's suspicion with the friends of our Friend?

If you are a true lover, be a friend to the Friend's friends;
if you are not like this, do not call yourself a friend — it is foolish.

Whomever He looks upon less — that one's origin is from a high place;
do not see little, see much — the Way has always come down thus.

If you are a lover, be a sacrifice to the seventy-two nations;
so that in the lovers' ranks you may become truly faithful.

If you love the Truth, the Truth opens a door to you;
abandon your self-approval — tear down the house of your existence.

The elect and the common, the obedient and the rebel — all are the Friend's servants;
whom can you speak against? Come, step outside your own house.

This discourse of Yunus is the speech of a hidden treasure;
those who love the Friend are separate from both worlds.

Poem 132

With grace, look this way; let the veil drop from your face —
are you the fourteenth moon? Your face and cheek blaze with light.

Those words from that honey-mouth are sweeter than a hundred thousand sugars;
when that tongue speaks, when that lip stirs!

Thirty-two pearls have blossomed within coral, O my soul —
their worth surpasses the finest pearls; their whiteness is whiter than pearl.

Against your face, this sun cannot stand even a moment;
the little moon comes from your eyebrow and reads a lesson at every breath.

Whoever sees you — how should they not fall into the fire like a moth?
For on either side of you stand those two torches aflame.

Whoever falls into the chains of your love's dungeons —
that one seeks no freedom, even if the body becomes dust.

How should the tongue describe your beauty and your nature?
May the Truth keep your beauty far from evil eyes.

I heard your stature surpasses the cypress;
my eye has not yet seen it, but my ear already loves your form.

Yunus saw the Truth's manifestation in your face;
there is no way to part — since in you the Truth appeared.

Poem 133

We dove into the sea of meaning — we found the secret of the body;
from end to end of both worlds, we found it all in the body.

These spinning heavens, these earths below the earth,
the seventy thousand veils — we found them all in the body.

The seven heavens and seven earths, the mountains and the seas,
Paradise and Hell — we found them all in the body.

Night and day, the seven stars of the sky,
the words inscribed upon the Tablet — we found them all in the body.

The Sinai where Moses ascended, or the Frequented House,
the Trumpet that Israfil shall blow — we found them all in the body.

The Torah and the Gospel, the Psalms and the Criterion —
the revelation within them — we found it all in the body.

One and two and three, four and five and six,
seven and eight and nine — we found them all in the body.

The words of Yunus are Truth; all he has said is true —
whatever you have seen, it is all Truth — we found it all in the body.

Poem 134

One night, from Chalap, the Buraq descended to Muhammad;
Gabriel said, "My master, the Truth has summoned you to the Night Ascension."

"Open for yourself the gardens of paradise — the vision is yours;
the All-Holy calls you — why do you lie there? Make yourself ready."

He rose with the Ascension in mind, went to his ablutions,
prostrated before his Friend — he did not say 'near' or 'far.'

Gabriel came to him and brought the Buraq, the steed;
its raiment was of light, its eye a jewel, its face shining.

His foot pressed upon a stone; the stone leapt up and went with him;
"Stay, O blessed one," he said — and so it remained, suspended.

The stone said, "When you return, press one foot upon me again."
The Messenger said, "I shall return — if the Truth commands it."

The news reached the heavens — earth and sky were filled with joy;
they said, "Ahmad has come!" — and the eight Paradises adorned themselves.

See what Muhammad did — he toured the heavens;
he gathered his community around him, just as he reached the Throne.

When he passed beyond the spheres, a voice came: "Come closer!
I have lifted the curtains — look upon My face."

"My vision is manifest to you — I will show you, clear and plain;
descend from the Buraq, go on foot — set one foot upon My Throne."

The Angels came and lowered him from the Buraq;
they turned his sandals around — then he walked on, barefoot.

Uveys rose from his place and turned the sandals upon the Throne;
Muhammad saw him — and separation turned to union.

When the Friend met the Friend, a hundred thousand words were spoken;
he laboured for his community — he is the Absolute Messenger.

He returned from the Ascension, came back to his home,
and found — lo! — his bedding still warm.

How many thousands of years' journey — to go and return in one breath!
Yunus says, who could it be? It is Muhammad, absolutely.

He who says "community" to the community, who eats the community's cares —
if you are truly of the community, say "Truth" to the religion of Islam.

Poem 135

To look upon the Friend's face, what pure and clear sight is needed;
to become acquainted with the Friend, the soul's eye must be awake.

Passing beyond pride and coyness, abandoning all arrangements,
exhausting all existences — a hundred thousand times that much is needed.

Existence is a heavy veil — who will tear this veil?
To lift the veil from the Friend's face, a hero is needed.

You yourself have become a veil upon yourself — why do you look in all directions?
One who does not lean forward or back — for whoever the Vision is needed.

Come now, tear down the veil; step outside the house of greed;
may the Truth grant success — purpose and skill are needed.

For the lover, honour and shame — by God, what wondrous news!
If you are a lover, come without a soul — no turban or head are needed.

Let go of yourself; look upon the Friend's face without a self;
like Mansur, proclaim "I am the Truth" — to be light of burden is needed.

Whoever becomes acquainted with the Friend inevitably falls into pain;
the lover's soul must be forever intoxicated and hungover.

Remove yourself from the middle ground; let body and form remain soulless —
there you will find union; what marketplace is needed after that?

The soul acquainted with the Friend is the one who slays itself;
one who routs the armies of existence — one even swifter is needed.

Abandon idle chatter and argument; give the Friend space;
in nothingness lies the meeting — to pass beyond all is needed.

This is not what the eye sees; this is not what the mind reaches;
this is not what the tongue describes — a sight beyond language is needed.

Listen, listen well — go to the Friend without a self;
for one who goes to the Friend, a journey without oneself is needed.

Do not look at the many as few, for the Friend springs from within;
count your existence as nothing — what further news is needed?

Forget, forget everything; speak only the essence of speech;
if you wish to see the Friend, something other than this is needed.

Of this world and the next, of every manner of blessing —
to see the Friend's face, one must pass beyond all of it.

Of this world and the next's affairs, of wife and children's burden —
if you wish the Friend's meeting, beware of existence.

The secret word is not a bead — come, let us leave off words;
the head's eye does not see the Friend — a different sight is needed.

Yunus, now you have an enemy; you will not find city or town;
whether anyone says Truth or falsehood — a dervish must bear the burden.

Poem 136

The one who says "I am a Muslim" must know what the conditions are;
holding fast to God's command, one must perform the five daily prayers.

Rise at dawn, lift your head, plunge your hands in water;
strike the neck of Satan — and the ego too must die.

When you perform the dawn prayer, let your supplication be with the Truth;
your honour and ease in the next world — you must go there to find it.

Perform the noon prayer — whatever you wish, you will find it;
be freed from Hell — the servants must be set free.

Those who perform the afternoon prayer, those who live the pure life —
they are the ones who reach the Truth; at every moment they must arrive.

The evening prayer is a duty of three — let it scour your mountain of sins;
your good deeds shall be, in your grave, the candle and the lamp.

For the night prayer, be ready — the Almighty loves those who are present;
complete whatever your faith lacks — faith must go before you.

Whoever did not take these words to heart, who did not perform the five prayers —
know that he never became a Muslim: he must enter Hell.

If you know the congregation — those present are of Paradise;
but if you are slothful, you must be among the hypocrites.

Do you not see Mustafa — how he kept faith?
That joy he won for his community — the community must reach it.

If you guard the zeal of faith, do not give the ego its desire;
Yunus, one must send the Prophet's blessing with love.

Poem 137

Those who come to this world must learn to walk the road;
remembering their death, one must weep day and night.

This world is a house of grief; it is not lasting but passing —
do not be deceived and remain here; one must come quickly to repentance.

What use is the world's abundance? Its emptiness is plain to see;
in truth, the palace of existence — one must know the hereafter.

Come, rise now from this passing world before you are deprived of the eternal;
worship in this world — the servants must claim their share.

If you fear Hell, be humble before all;
on that day, over the narrow bridge — all must cross.

If you wish to cross and pass, if you say "let me not fall" —
the wealth you have earned, for God's sake, you must give it away.

Giving what you earned, seeing the poor kindly,
arriving at the Truth's presence — from the fire one must be saved.

The Quran says, "Fear God," and again it says, "Sow" —
do not sit idle in laziness; quickly one must come to repentance.

Yunus's words are not mere poetry — their root is from the Book;
to those who listen, with hadith — one must be faithful, know this well.

Poem 138

First, our duty is this: we need deeds with good character;
when the name of Islam is spoken, our companion must be faith.

When Israfil blows his trumpet, when all creation awakes,
when the reckoning's questions are asked — Arabic must be the tongue.

They will draw back the curtains of heaven, they will sort the good from the wicked —
in that hour, where will you flee? You must find a place to save your head.

They will pitch their tents and sit; they will bring our capital forward;
in that field of reckoning, these arrangements you must know.

Parents cry out to each other, brother wearies of brother;
they plead with the All-Holy — a hero must rise to intercede.

Of all things, love is the nearest — Yunus, beware, do not err;
when the question of love is asked, an answer of true state is needed.

Poem 139

Those who come to this world must in the end depart again;
a guest they are — to their homeland, one day, they must journey.

We made a covenant with that Friend before we came to this world;
however long we linger, that promise of ours must be fulfilled.

We too shall go to that land when our time comes;
wherever a person is going, they must fortify their heart for it.

How should the heart not be fortified for the road to the Friend's country?
Those who are lovers must spend their very souls upon this path.

Whatever the soul attaches to, the mind too is spent upon it;
whatever the heart loves, the tongue must explain it.

Is it any wonder if the lover mentions his Beloved?
When love overflows the head, the heart must cry out.

Yunus, if you truly love, then give us word of Him;
the lover's mark is this: he must speak of his Beloved.

Poem 140

Come, O you who seek dervishhood, let me tell you what must be done:
set down the sweet drinks and drink poison as nectar.

Come to the training and lay down all you know;
whatever the master says, you must hold fast to that.

Endure patience and contentment, practise freshness utterly;
devote yourself to this road — you must turn your face to this path.

Withdraw your heart from the world, sow barley with your own hands;
mix half ash into your flour, and dry it in the sun.

How wonder if he eats this — let the ego desire what it will;
when he breaks his fast, it must be once every three days.

This is the life of the saints — these do not know trickery;
through this one finds manhood — one must swallow bitterness too.

Do not look at the face of this world, do not be deceived by people's words;
turn to longing for the Face — you must turn your face to the Truth.

To whom shall Yunus say this? Who will set out toward a great one?
Perhaps one of us will act upon it — we must make it known to the lovers.

Poem 141

What shall we do with this world — what shall we make of it, what must be done?
The hem of love — never let it go — you must hold it always.

My Çalap created this world for the sake of tribulation;
those who come in truth must swallow its bitterness.

If you seek a companion for tomorrow's roads,
in this world you must take the Friend as your guide.

Paradise, Paradise — so you say, and deceive God's servants;
the capital of Paradise is to win a single heart.

Even mountain and stone could not endure the saints' sigh;
even if his shield is iron, one must hurl the arrows.

In the gaze of the saints, fresh roses have opened;
if you are a true nightingale, you must sing in that gaze.

Poem 142

The dervish's life must be pure;
and on the path, his honour too must be pure.

Leave behind the claim of self, speak the essence of the word;
from the fear of God, his face must be pale.

His inner wound must not heal, his tears must not cease;
at every breath the dervish's work must be sighing and lamenting.

Look down on no one, never break a heart;
in all seventy-two nations, dervishhood must hold its share.

Let him not fear Hell, let him not hope for Houris;
his only aim, always, must be the Face of the Truth.

Make your face dust to the humble, O Yunus;
beyond all else, the saint's confession of faith must be paramount.

Poem 143

What use to us the water of life? We gave the soul to plunder.
The jewels we left to the money-changers — the mine itself we gave to plunder.

The merchant of our land never sought profit;
since profit is not ours, we gave loss itself to plunder.

The gnostics of this road carry no merchandise;
we go naked — the shop itself we gave to plunder.

In our marketplace, nothingness is what the buyer takes;
since business runs this way, we gave our possessions to plunder.

The marketplace of religion and nation — "you" and "I" plundered it;
we stepped out from between both — we gave "you-and-I" to plunder.

The words "disbelief" and "faith" became a veil on this road;
we made friends with both — we gave faith-and-disbelief to plunder.

Through piety we sought much, but nothing was granted;
abandoning it all, we gave even doubt to plunder.

Were life a hundred thousand years, it would not equal one morning's hour;
we passed beyond the endless count — we gave time itself to plunder.

The finite cycle of time kept Yunus lingering long;
he reached the infinite cycle — we gave the turning world to plunder.

Poem 144

Whatever word I speak, my tongue speaks only of You;
wherever I walk, my prayer flees toward You.

It is true — those who do not love You are lifeless forms, I say;
that is why the living need a Beloved such as You.

You have spoken to the whole world and are still behind the veil;
were You to walk unveiled one moment, both worlds would perish.

Demon and fairy, human and angel — every creature loves You;
bewildered before You, they stand — the free ones and the angels.

Nectar is poison drunk from any other hand, but from Yours
even deadly venom — I know not its secret — becomes balm to my soul.

If I eat honey and sugar, without You it is poison to my soul;
since You are my soul's taste, where shall I find anything better than You?

What matter if Yunus too is but a mote within love?
By love's fire, the earth and sky and the wheeling heavens endure.

Poem 145

Çalap created Muhammad's soul from light;
He scattered mercy upon the world — the name of Muhammad.

"My Friend," He said, and created him; He took upon Himself his care;
He turned toward the community the face of Muhammad.

Muhammad is a sea that holds and fills the world;
seventy thousand prophets stand in the lake of Muhammad.

He grasped no worldly wealth, no trust He let increase;
no tailor cut and sewed the garment of Muhammad.

Ali, the Lion of God, stands at the right hand of Muhammad;
Hasan and Husayn stand at the left of Muhammad.

Seventy thousand pilgrims each year set their intention;
they go and visit the light of Muhammad.

My Yunus Emre is full of love, is lacking, is poor;
whoever does not eat is deprived — the feast of Muhammad.

Poem 146

His mark is this: a pale face, eyes full of tears — the lover's;
his soul burns in love's fire, his liver is wounded — the lover's.

Day and night he wanders dazed, arrives burning in love's fire;
his mattress is the earth and the grave, his pillow is a stone — the lover's.

No one knows the lover's state, what lies within his heart;
to sweep the Friend's path clean, his face is a broom — the lover's.

The lover is humble, his tears never cease;
his wealth, his land, his soul, his head — all are shaved for love — the lover's.

The lover sighs day and night, strikes the straight road to the Truth;
at every moment the heart's pleasure-ground, the heart's Ascension — the lover's.

Each person holds to a work to draw near the Friend;
day and night, with his ego at every breath — battle is the lover's.

Yunus says: sell that blame-path sheikhdom for love!
The lover wants no good name — ill-repute is pleasing to the lover.

Poem 147

O water, whence do you come, where is your homeland?
Wherever you find a hollow, there is your bed.

You emerge from the heights, you flow to the low ground;
you hold your heart to the Truth — you have a humble heart.

The cloud carries you, brings you to the worlds;
it grows every kind of flower — you have a fine master.

You go to the trees, you enter through their roots;
you walk in hidden channels — you have a long reach.

Wherever it is, wet or dry, nothing is without you;
you are neither dead nor alive — you have no body at all.

Some of you goes to the sea, some rises as steam;
if we speak your name, what remains? — you have a fine market.

Flowing, you become the sea; scattering, you become dust;
in the lakes you become reeds — the houses built are yours.

In the world, living and lifeless, nothing can exist without you;
you are soul to the soul, without doubt — you have no likeness at all.

Now Yunus is thirsty and longs to drink of you;
a single sip is worth a thousand gold coins — you are beyond all price.

Poem 148

If you have reached the Great One, what is the design of form to you?
If you have found the road to Meaning, what is this world to you?

Once you have seen the path, abandon this world's claim — all of it;
let go of love for this world — when you are a lover, what is it to you?

Renounce the world, come and enter the house of love;
reach the station ahead — what is falling behind to you?

This body's capital is fire and water, earth and wind;
each returns to its origin — what is heedlessness to you?

Day and night you eat worries — "What can I do, I am poor," you say;
He is generous, He gives your sustenance — what is eating worry to you?

The idol-house and the wine-house became a mosque for the true soul;
not a coin goes to waste — what is lying to you?

Since you are bound for the hereafter, leave this false claim;
this love of wealth and treasure — if you are a lover, what is it to you?

Eat and feed the helpless — if it diminishes, God will give;
one day your body enters the earth — what is what remains behind to you?

You say "mine" and stand firm, you make claims of truth;
the King does not condone sin — what is going astray to you?

Yunus, you have become drunk from that cup of love;
when you reached the Truth you were beside yourself — what is sobering up to you?

Poem 149

The dervishes' hearts are pure — they rule from Mount Qaf to Mount Qaf;
O how many sultans are in the power of the dervishes.

The dervishes' states, their roads that lead to God —
in heaven Uveys turned the sandal — he is of the dervishes.

The Messenger ascended the Ascension, the Master gazed;
see, see how He describes the dervishes.

Mustafa returned from the Throne — there the companions of purity;
He listened to their words, the secret speech of the dervishes.

The Messenger came down to the door and knocked;
"Who are you?" they said — the humble ones of the dervishes.

The Messenger entered within, the companions rose to their feet;
the lovers saw the Face — the union of the dervishes.

The Messenger said, "O Everlasting, these are a wondrous people;
You have made a sea of mystery — the hearts of the dervishes."

"To these I said 'They are Mine,' to these I said 'I am theirs';
I made them forget their wealth, the treasure of the dervishes."

Dervishhood is a craft, and the patched cloak is its forest;
many wild beasts prowl in the garment of the dervishes.

What shall poor Yunus do, how much can he expound?
He is a lover — let the servant speak the praise of the dervishes.

Poem 150

The Friend, I say — my desire — is the remedy of the lovers;
do not set down the cup of love, for it is the covenant of the lovers.

Be a lover, burn like a moth in love's fire and see;
those who burn in the fire — they are the very soul of the lovers.

Every night he circles to behold the Truth's beauty;
the mighty Throne, moment by moment, is the promenade of the lovers.

Through the ascetic's piety, he earns the station of Paradise;
but everything other than God is the prison of the lovers.

Do not look down, my dear one, on the men of love — beware;
with the Lord's secret they are hidden — the lovers.

Do not be idle in the service of the perfect sheikh, O Yunus;
to serve one's master is the way of the lovers.

Poem 151

No servant without king, no king without servant;
who would know the King if the servant did not cry "Make way!"?

The Sultan is always Sultan, the servant always His servant;
He was the Eternal King, the foundation within the foundation.

God is eternal, the servant eternal — I have not stepped one pace apart;
see who the servant is, who God is — understand, O you of acceptance.

Show us the palace of unity, the true moon of glad tidings;
leave the thought of duality, cast off selfhood, O servant.

See now the hidden journey, the secret within the journey;
the servant does not know this plan — upon whom has this descent fallen?

Speak, speak all of it — you are neither mine nor mineral;
you are a form full of meaning — find the King within yourself.

Come now, open your veil, part from yourself, flee to yourself;
within you shall you find the Ascension — all roads lead to you.

Where have you gone, O wise one? From one mouth, all tongues;
the chain of particulars reports to the Universal Mind.

Yunus, look where you are — neither on earth nor in heaven;
guard the curtain of courtesy — come now, come and worship.

Poem 152

From the father's loins, one day, the heart fell into the mother;
from God came our permission — the heart fell into the treasury.

There He made me into a soul, made flesh and bone and blood;
when forty days were spoken, the heart fell into turning.

I walked there hidden, but God's command gives no reprieve;
they severed me from my homeland — the heart fell into this world.

They placed me in the cradle, bound my hands and feet;
they gave me its bitterness — the heart fell into salt.

Twice a day they unwrap me, string coins around my head;
they gave my mouth the breast — the heart fell into the grip of the self.

I left these things behind, I set out to walk;
they inscribed my twelve bones — the heart fell from hand to hand.

As a boy, a sultan arises — who kisses whose hand, whose face;
reason became my companion — the heart fell into sovereignty.

At this age the beard grows, and the beholder's face brightens;
among the beautiful ones it blooms — the heart fell into love-play.

More than good it loves evil; it hastens to commit it;
pursuing the desires of the self — the heart fell into the house of the self.

At forty-five the face changes, white descends into the black beard;
seeing one's gray hair — the heart fell into pulling it out.

Going on the road, one cannot manage; the hand no longer reaches youth;
leaving these things behind — the heart fell into consolation.

The son says "He's gone senile but won't die"; the daughter says "He won't get up from his place";
he himself knows nothing of his state — the heart fell from state to state.

When he dies they give thanks; they take him toward the grave;
they recite God's name — the heart fell into much thankfulness.

They bring water to wash him, wrap him in a shroud to place him;
they mount him on a wooden horse — the heart fell onto the bier.

If you have good deeds, your grave will be wide;
if you have no deeds — the heart drank wine of fire.

Yunus, understand your state — your road leads to this;
while your hand still reaches here — let the heart fall into good works.

Poem 153

How greatly strange this state within the world has come to me:
the one who guests for the night departs again at dawn.

If you are truly a guest, open your eyes, be awake;
if you bear witness to this word: property and wealth remain behind.

Someone else will eat your wealth — you, go there, give your account;
your grave is but one step — come, see at last what this fortune is.

While your eyes still see, eat and drink — do not make so many excuses;
what is the harvest in this world? Be amazed — the market is give-and-take.

I shall speak the truth of the word — listen, do not forget, take heed:
behold, the Judgment has drawn near — let no illusion cross your heart.

Then Israfil will blow the trumpet, the dead will rise from their places;
the Scales will be set up, and the Lord of Majesty will render judgment.

Sultan and slave will be one there, and the awe will be severe;
the state will be unlike any other — escape is there impossible.

If you are not afraid here, Yunus, they will terrify you there;
if your life has been true, you shall cross the Bridge with ease.

Poem 154

We do not need the world, since its foundation is not eternal.

Even if a servant lives a thousand years, at death it is not one hour.

This world is the house of tribulation — how many lifetimes it devours;
he who deals in Paradise's ways is neither lying nor mistaken.

Those faithful servants of Yours — the world is their prison;
the believer in this world is not joyful, not glad.

Those who act as tyrants here, who gorge the self on the forbidden —
they shall rise with blackened faces, their own souls not at rest.

Who remains, who reaches Him — those who worship Him day and night;
Paradise is given to them, for they are friends, not strangers.

Poor Yunus, you are intoxicated — look to yourself, leave these things:
a life of hypocrisy in this world is not a good name for a person.

Poem 155

Leave this world's adornment — this world is wind, an illusion;
what loyalty will it show us, when decline lurks in ambush?

Do not trust the mortal life, for its love is not eternal;
while we watch, even sultans leave behind their realm and wealth.

Cut away the head of pride, abandon all excess;
if you do not cut its head, a life with love is impossible.

All these long anxieties were our companions;
know that beyond contemplation of the Friend, all is chatter and noise.

Take your account in your own hands;
otherwise, in the hands of the border-guards, the state will be dire.

Until I strike the neck of what they call pleasure-seeking,
how shall I find union with the Generous King in truth?

Kill the desire of the self, carry it onto the bier;
otherwise, when you die untimely, the washer of the dead will be commanded over you.

If anyone asks you "What is your creed before God?"
kiss His feet — this is the answer to the question.

Yunus, this Straight Path is your obligation;
before the Resurrection and the Gathering, you need union with the Absolutely Real.

Poem 156

The station of dervishhood is a state within a state;
the station of resignation — for the dervish, impossible.

The dervish is not severed from the first breath;
there was never separation — union is their portion.

The dervish smashed the cup of chaos here;
he acted here — he was not idle.

The dervish's life is upon the Bridge;
they weighed their account to the atom's weight.

If the dervish says "I am the Truth," what wonder is it?
All being belongs to the Truth, in every state.

Dervish, do not avert your eyes from the first breath;
Yunus sees and stands — both the last and the first.

Poem 157

Do not give advice to the loveless — they will not take your counsel;
a loveless human is an animal, and an animal does not know advice.

Be not absent from the worthy — be seen fleeing from the ignorant;
God is weary of the miserly — the miser does not see the Face.

If you pour water on black stone, even soak it for fifty years,
it remains plain stone — it does not become a stone of skill.

From stone emerge many waters, at its foot many things grow;
the ignorant heart is worse than stone — the ignorant one does not truly come.

Do not toil day and night trying to make the gray sparrowhawk hunt —
its work is merely gaping; it releases but does not catch the duck.

The royal gyrfalcon, the shaheen, the peregrine — well praised are those who praise them;
even if the falcon weakens, it does not cease to be a falcon.

That Sun of Both Worlds exchanged his outward world;
the ignorant think he died — but he himself does not die, is not dying.

Yunus, do not be among the ignorant, do not be far from the worthy;
though the ignorant may be a believer, he does not cease from ignorance.

Poem 158

The person of meaning shall not grow weary on this road;
hearts that hold meaning shall never die.

The body is mortal, the soul does not die — once gone, it does not return;
if anything dies, it is the body — souls shall not die.

To hearts without jewels, even if you speak a hundred thousand words —
if God has not apportioned it, it shall not be apportioned.

Guard the Friend's heart — it is crystal, do not crack it;
once crystal is broken, it shall not be whole again.

If you set your cup at the spring without filling it,
even if it stands there a thousand years, it shall not fill itself.

Those two — Khidr and Elias — drank the Water of Life;
within these few years, they shall not die.

God created the world for the friendship of the Prophet;
those who come to the world depart — they shall not remain forever.

Yunus, while your eyes still see, make your provision;
those who go there have not come back — they shall not return.

Poem 159

O heedless one, open your eyes — do not stretch your heart too far;
look to your own life — do not spy on anyone's faults.

Live with such virtue that when you die, they will speak of you;
this is the lasting life, my soul — do not depart with an evil name.

One day you will exchange this world for the hereafter;
day and night perform worship — do not stretch out your legs and lie idle.

When you see a dervish coming, bow your face to his footstep;
when he asks you for God's share, do not knit your brow.

Yielding to the self, do not raise all five fingers to your mouth at once;
cut one off and give it to the poor — it is needed — do not forget.

Speak the speech you speak as you heard it;
do not grow clever on your own and add a few words more.

The world is fatty and sweet — it needs a person to eat it;
do not covet evil things, cutting and gnawing and swallowing.

Yunus, who kills you? The one who gives the soul also takes it;
tomorrow you shall see Him — do not stray from the saint's gaze.

Poem 160

Let us be companions, the two of us —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.
Let us share our state, the two of us —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Come, let us go while the soul still stands,
before the form is cast aside,
before an enemy enters between us —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Come, let us go — do not stay far;
for the Friend, let us prepare.
My master holds the resting-place —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Let us leave behind country and city;
for the Friend, let us weep.
Let us take the Beloved in hand —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Let us not remain in this world —
it is mortal, let us not be deceived.
While we are one, let us not part —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Let us depart from this world,
let us fly to the Friend's country.
Let us pass beyond desire and fancy —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Be my guide —
let us turn our hearts toward the Friend.
Let us not look before or behind —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

This world does not endure —
open your eyes, wake, my soul.
Be my companion and my beloved —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Before the news of death arrives,
before fate seizes our collar,
before Azrael launches his attack —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Let us go to a true saint,
let us ask for tidings of God.
Let us take Yunus Emre with us —
Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart.

Poem 161

What if you came now and left corruption behind, O heart —
sometimes weeping for your sins, sometimes finding contentment, O heart.

Your business and labor of corruption burned me with the fire of greed;
what if you took the Beloved in one direction and cast the burning fire aside, O heart.

How long shall I follow you, placing myself into trouble?
What if you too came and held to my counsel, O heart.

The world is the enemy of the people — the goal is the Soul of souls;
know that the world is mortal — what if you left the world, O heart.

Poor Yunus holds nothing back from the soul, he gives his soul as sacrifice;
what if you came and took refuge in the Glorious One, and walked the straight road, O heart.

Poem 162

What they call dervishhood is not a cloak and crown;
the one who makes his heart a dervish has no need of a cloak.

What fault does the cloak have, if you do not walk its road?
Go — walk the path — the road of the saint is not a dead end.

My master lives with love, barefoot and bareheaded;
there are saints who have lived true lives — they are not barefoot and hungry.

He stands and speaks wisdom to the saint — my Yunus Emre;
he is on the road with the man of the road — he is no companion to the pathless.

Poem 163

Your saying "I" is not the root in meaning;
to look cross-eyed at the servants of one gate is not the Way.

If you are of use to yourself, you will grasp this word;
wherever you look, do not say "You are not that one."

The Beloved of all seventy-two nations is the same;
to separate the lover from the Beloved is not a good omen.

While casting off your unbelief, beware — do not strike your faith as well;
greed is our enemy — it is familiar, not foreign.

This word's tidings are brief indeed, most brief:
to choose a true saint is not compulsion — it is a rare gift.

Master, this is the language of birds — only Solomon knows it;
I tell you, O lord: this tongue is not an empty tongue.

Without looking left or right, Tapduk's Yunus speaks well;
those lovers of that True One — they are all to the right, not the left.

Poem 164

Solving the mystery is not a common person's work —
give your heart to one; on this road, it is no stone.

The meaning of these words is the saints' feast —
do not feed it to the ignorant; our sugar is no soup.

Do not sever God's portion from the saints' heart —
the one who bestows grace upon you is not mere eye and brow.

The true man shows the station at every breath —
not just any mystic can interpret this dream; it is no small affair.

Find yourself a Beloved and make your soul the ransom —
those who come in denial are not the saint's companions.

For God to reveal Himself, for the soul to find its origin —
drive all else from the heart; His gaze is not a stone.

We drank the wine of love from the Friend's own hand —
the one who poured that cup for us is no worldly dervish.

Yunus was a falcon — it landed on Tapduk's arm;
it came for the hunt and the prey — this is no nesting bird.

Poem 165

Souls are offerings on this road — the soul's concern is not mine;
you are the soul I need — the world's concern is not mine.

You are the soul among souls, you are my hidden treasure —
since I have seen you manifest, the hidden's concern is not mine.

You are the life among lives, you are the Water of Life —
you are our faith and religion; faith's concern is not mine.

I pressed my wound and cleaned it; I learned where my wound lies —
the beloved's concern, the wound's concern — it is not mine.

Your love laid me bare — I said I would keep the secret, but
since I have seen you openly, concealment's concern is not mine.

Can there be a cure for me? My pain is mine alone —
let me come to you in pain; the cure's concern is not mine.

Come, let us become lovers, let us whirl in love's dance —
I have fallen drunk; the dance's concern is not mine.

Love's arrow, its iron point, strikes at my heart —
let me die for love's sake; the arrowhead's concern is not mine.

What did I do with soul and heart? I threw them into love's fire —
I even forgot sincerity; doubt's concern is not mine.

I flew from love's tower, I passed on whirling wings —
I have met the Friend; the whirling's concern is not mine.

I have dived into the shoreless sea; there I found the pearl-shell —
I have returned with the jewel; the ocean's concern is not mine.

Where I stand becomes Sinai; what I see becomes the Face —
what need have I for Moses? The "you-and-I" concern is not mine.

They counsel Yunus: "Rise, the caravan has departed!" —
I have reached the station; the caravan's concern is not mine.

Poem 166

If you once broke a heart,
the prayer you perform is not prayer —
not even seventy-two nations
can wash the hands and face clean of it.

The saints came and passed through;
they left the world and departed.
They rose into the air and flew —
they are the Huma bird, not geese.

The soul is what reaches God;
the foot is what steps onto the road.
The true man is the one who stands low —
not the eye that looks down from above.

Do not count the denier and the pretender;
push aside the one who hedges.
Go — stable these ones in the barn:
whoever is not love's falcon.

If you walked the straight road,
if you grasped the saint's hem,
if you did even one good deed —
for that one, a thousand is not too few.

Yunus strings these words together
as if mixing honey into butter;
he sells his wares to the people —
his load is jewels, not salt.

Poem 167

See no one as empty — no person is hollow;
looking with contempt at the saints is not seemly.

Make your heart a dervish; become intimate with the Friend —
the man of love in that meaning: the dervish's interior is not empty.

A dervish knows a dervish — one who stands on God's road;
the dervishes are Huma birds, not kites and owls.

Dervishhood at its root passed beyond the soul, beyond both worlds —
it brings news from the Sultan; it is clear — no foreign bird.

O Yunus, whoever knows God never speaks a lie —
whoever comes with duality has not found the straight road.

Poem 168

O friends, O brothers, ask me — where was I?
Listen and I will tell you — I was in the primordial homeland.

From the beginning, on my tongue: God is One, Truth is the Messenger —
yet before I knew this, I was in a wondrous station.

Before "Am I not?" was spoken, before order and arrangement were made,
I was not apart from God — I was in that great assembly.

Before the earth was founded, before Adam came into the world,
before the Ox and the Fish were set in place — I was there from the beginning.

With Job I was captive to affliction; I groaned and suffered punishment.
With Bilqis I sat on the throne — I was at the Seal of Solomon.

With Jonah the fish pulled me down — say rather, it swallowed me whole;
with Zachariah I fled; with Noah I was in the Flood.

With the staff and with Moses I fled and climbed Mount Sinai;
with Abraham I was laying foundations in Mecca.

I drew the knife on Ishmael — the knife could not cut him;
God set me free: with the ram I was at the sacrifice.

With Joseph I lay in the well and suffered punishment together;
with Jacob I wept much — until he was found, I was in lamentation.

On the Night of the Ascension I turned Ahmad's sandal on the Throne;
with Uveys I cast the crown — with Mansur I was on the gallows-rope.

With Ali I struck the sword; with Omar I dispensed justice;
for eighteen years on Mount Qaf, with Hamza I was on the battlefield.

Yunus — your lover's soul was with the primordial lovers;
at God's court I was in contemplation and the whirling dance.

Poem 169

O friends, O brothers, ask me — where was I?
Diving into the sea of love, I was in the shoreless ocean.

Before the earth was founded, before heaven and earth were filled with angels,
before the Tablet and the Pen were struck — I was in the realm of creation.

The One who watched over me, who kept me wherever I was —
I was the soul in the lamp at the end of love's rope.

The hand of sorrow could not reach me; the eye of grief could not see me —
beyond the city of anxiety, I was in a great abode.

Whoever is engaged in these matters, let them abandon all confusion —
within the within, I was in a most subtle concealment.

If a hundred thousand like me came to this world, it would be few —
my coming is now; I was in the Quran with the Master.

Before reading the four books, before distinguishing and discerning,
I memorized my lesson — I was singing this love.

Permission came from the King; He sent us here to this realm —
both worlds became Paradise; in Paradise I was with Ridwan.

I was a star for all that time; the angels in heaven desired me —
the Compeller of the World decrees; I was there in that time.

When ninety thousand words of God were spoken with the Beloved,
when thirty thousand became secret — I was in those secrets.

Before this form, when my name was not yet Yunus,
I was He and He was I — I was the one offering this love.

Poem 170

Since I found God within myself, what is doubt and suspicion to me?
If these eyes do not see the Friend's face, what are these eyes to me?

Let the one who prays come; let the one who speaks ninety thousand needs come;
let the one who worships outwardly come and see — what is the Friend to me.

Let me become Moses and climb Sinai; let me become light and look from the eye;
let me become the word and emerge from the tongue — what is melody and song to me?

Moses goes and climbs Sinai; there he looks into the light —
not a mote beyond the Friend do these eyes of mine see.

Here I gathered myself together; I placed my faith in that Friend;
I rose for the prayer of His oneness — what is hypocritical worship to me?

That Friend called me illiterate, and gave me the name Yunus —
my tongue is sugar, my body a reed — what is this speaker to me?

I am the illiterate one, I am Yunus; nine are my fathers, four are my mothers —
I fall into love's fire and burn; what are markets and bazaars to me?

Poem 171

I came here as a stranger — I am weary of this land;
the time has come to break free of this captivity's snare.

I have read the book of love, I completed my study —
I have no need; I write both black and white.

The meaning of the four books is complete in a single alif —
do not make me say "ba"; when you say "ba," I go astray.

Whoever masters a single alif is purified from the world —
why do I stand and wander in the land of anxiety?

My crime before seventy-two nations is this: I said "God" —
the fear belongs to treachery; why should I be angry?

Water flowing from one spring cannot be bitter and sweet both —
it is my nature to be pressed; I seep from a single spout.

How can the children of the law show me the road?
I have become the sea in the ocean of reality — I swim.

Since I came here, I found Him here —
I am Mansur; I came to the gallows; I scatter as ashes.

If the nights are dark, if the roads make no sense at all,
if my guide is a true man — why would I go astray?

The Friend said "come to me" and consumed my cares —
this blackness of my face — I arrange it as offerings.

When I go to the Friend's presence, clasping my hands in service,
if He asks me for deeds — I am weary of such deeds.

Yunus — this is the language of birds; only Solomon knows it;
on this road, the true saint — I perceive what he says.

Poem 172

Before I came to this world, I was in the Sultan of the World's realm —
His word true, His decree flowing — I was in the Sultan's command.

Before creatures came here, before the heavens were filled with angels,
before foundations were laid for this realm — I was in the realm of creation.

A hundred and twenty-four thousand elect, four hundred and forty-four degrees —
on that day in the station of sovereignty, I was in the great dynasty.

Grief could not see me; the hand of sorrow could not reach me —
beyond the city of anxiety, I was in a lofty abode.

Yunus — all this existence is not a mote before the Friend;
I was in speech and word — I was both here and there.

Poem 173

Here I come again — I shall make the secret word manifest;
with a single word I shall leave earth and heaven astounded.

If I wish, I make body; if I wish, I make soul;
my heart I make Sinai, my soul Moses, love I make Solomon.

Let life come against me — I shall break life's neck;
if death be necessary, I shall make my soul the sacrifice.

As Jesus goes to Mary, so I go to that God —
on the road of His grace, I shall make the world laugh with joy.

What sort of person is Azrael, that he might assail my soul?
His own assault I shall turn into his own prison.

And who is Gabriel to command my cry?
A hundred thousand like Gabriel I shall set flying in a single breath.

Those who came before us said the meaning was hidden —
I have come like one newborn: I shall make it naked.

Yunus — the house of your heart is brimming with God's being;
here I come to bestow upon the lovers a gift from that being.

Poem 174

I abandon the whole world, but the Friend I cannot abandon;
apart from Him, half an hour — without Him I cannot endure.

My life apart from Him is no life at all;
He is eternal — He sees me; I am dead — I do not see.

If the Houri comes and says, "Give your heart to me" —
to no one beyond the Friend can I give my heart.

Saying "Friend," this life of mine has passed — I could not complete the Friend's service;
let me let Him complete me, for I myself can complete nothing.

In a single stroke I became — alas! — there is no hope from me for me;
if I exist, then where is He? I cannot reach this secret.

Friends advise me: "Go away from His nearness!" —
but I go nearer still; beyond Him I cannot go.

People say to Yunus, "Be patient — today, tomorrow" —
let me strive for today; I cannot deliver today to tomorrow.

Poem 175

I came with a strange state — no one knows my condition;
I speak and I listen — no one knows my tongue.

My language is the language of birds; my land is the Friend's land;
I am the nightingale, the Friend is my rose — know this: my rose does not wilt.

That Friend said "come to me" and said "take the cup I offer" —
I took the cup, I drank the wine; my heart no longer dies.

I have no stay, no stopping place; nowhere is there rest for me —
I have no fixed place to make my prayer to God.

Ask me where I stand — if you come, I will show you:
not a mote apart from God do my eyes see anything.

One theophany on Mount Sinai — see what it did to Moses!
Yunus says: before God, my word does not fall behind.

Poem 176

When I knew myself, know well that I found God;
my fear was until I found Him — now I am freed from fear.

I fear nothing else, nor care a single mote;
from whom should I now fear? I became companion to the one I feared.

Azrael does not come for my soul, the questioners do not come to my grave;
what would they ask of me? The one who sends them — I became that.

How could I ever be so much? I decree His decree;
He came and filled my heart — I became a shop for Him.

The shopkeeper is never absent from his shop, his house;
since He came to this house, I became a mine of wealth for these people.

The living take guidance from me — what do the soulless know of the saint?
They both give and take — I became a great assembly.

Yunus bowed to God, God opened the door to Yunus;
the everlasting fortune was mine — I was a slave and became a sultan.

Poem 177

Tell the lovers: the one who gave the heart to love — that is I;
who can meet the price of love? The one who found the mine of love — that is I.

Earth and sky are full of this love; without love, nothing exists;
becoming the sea of love, the one who plunges into oceans — that is I.

Taking water from the sea's face, I offer it up to the heavens;
wandering like a cloud, the one who reaches near the Throne — that is I.

Becoming lightning, striking; in the sky, pressing the angels;
commanding the clouds, becoming rain, the one who falls — that is I.

I saw the angels of heaven, each in a different motion;
chanting Chalap's remembrance — I am the Gospel and the Quran.

The one who says "I saw" has not seen; the one who says "I knew" has not known;
the Knower is the Shower — the one taken captive by love, that is I.

Eight Paradises are mansions and palaces for the lovers;
like Moses, struck with wonder, the one who remains on Mount Sinai — that is I.

When the Pen was struck, see! The news is this, know!
The one who brings word here of the covenant "Am I not?" — that is I.

I went mad; my name is Yunus; love became my guide;
all alone to the Presence, rubbing my face on the ground as I came — that is I.

Poem 178

From Eternity I drove this love to this realm and came;
I was One there, beyond doubt — and look, I came back to the One.

That One's light appeared to me through the face of a saint;
with the eye of the soul, I came here seeking that light.

Since I saw that light, I forgot myself;
you would think I am Moses — I came to Sinai on a quest.

The Mount of Prayer happens wherever I stand;
I am Bayezid today — look, I came to the hidden mystery.

Eternity is my homeland, Alast is my road;
I came here to see both Eternity and Alast.

I existed from Eternity; I was the Beloved's companion;
God sent me — I came to see the world.

I rained from sky to earth, I rose from earth to sky many times;
I put on Adam's garment and came to pass my time.

I wrapped myself in flesh and skin, I came and appeared before you;
I set my name as "human" and came forth into manifestation.

Love intoxicated my soul — look, it makes me say "I am the Truth!"
Fear departed from my heart — I am Mansur; I came to the gallows.

For the one pained by love, I have a remedy;
I came to ask after the one sick with love — that is my path.

I took Majnun's cup, I plunged into Layla's heart;
since I knew God openly, I came from there to the boundary.

Know this: beyond here is the realm of the King;
all four sides became the Face — see what a beautiful place I came to.

Since love filled me, since my name became Yunus;
the King appeared — I am His slave; I came in gratitude.

Poem 179

I have no stay here — I came here to go;
I am a merchant, my wares are many — I came to sell to any who will buy.

I did not come for quarrels; my work is love;
the Friend's house is hearts — I came to build hearts.

My madness is the Friend's intoxication; the lovers know what I am;
I came to exchange duality for unity.

He is my Master, I am His slave; I am the nightingale of the Friend's garden;
I came to sing with joy in my Master's garden.

Souls who do not know each other here will not know each other there;
I came to know the Friend here and present my state.

Yunus Emre has fallen in love, has died from the Beloved's pain;
at the door of the true saint, I came to present my state.

Poem 180

Whatever I say, my decree runs; in my hand I hold a royal command;
whatever I say, my decree flows — for I hold the decree of the Sultan.

Humans and jinn and fairies, the demons are under my decree;
my throne is carried by the wind — I hold the Seal of Solomon.

What are Iblis and Adam? Who leads astray, or who goes astray?
Good and evil, all of them — I hold them all from that Source.

The world is my domain, its people are my people;
my judgment runs at every moment — I hold my judgment with a smile.

While there is a soul like yours, the one who seeks the Water of Life —
the one who enters darkness — I count him as a beast.

Without Him I die; with Him I am alive;
do not think that I hold life forever from the soul.

My religion and my faith — He is that; without Him in this world
I worship neither idol nor cross; I hold no religion or faith.

Yunus says, there is no doubt: He is I and I am He;
whatever I say, the Friend holds; whatever the Friend says, I hold.

Poem 181

My soul — I came here from there as an eternal lover;
I took love as my guide and came arriving at love.

I am not in words and states, nor in seventy-two tongues;
there is no stranger to me in this land — I came having known there.

I passed beyond the land of self-regard, I withdrew from everything;
through the gate of duality, I came growing into oneness.

Four companions are my traveling-mates, my faithful ones, my confidants;
with three I am content — at one I came having been enraged.

Of those four, one is the soul, one is religion, one is faith;
one is my self — the enemy; I came having battled there.

They split a single hair into forty, they showed one the Way;
they sent me to this realm — I came falling onto that road.

I drank from love's sherbet, I crossed twelve rivers;
I burst the dikes of seas — I came overflowing from the Ocean.

I came here from there, and I shall go back there again;
that I would go there — I came having learned that there.

What sort of person is Azrael, to make an attempt on my soul?
I came having settled accounts with the Owner of the trust.

I sought and climbed to a high point, I lingered for the view;
speaking the lineage of the saints, I came falling into that lineage.

What sorrow for Yunus Emre — the lover bears blame and ill repute;
at that moment I exchanged my disbelief for faith and came.

Poem 182

If I die by the Friend's hand, let me come back laughing;
let me see this moment as a prize — let me give my soul in gratitude.

The one who clings to his soul falls far from the Friend;
I would sacrifice a hundred thousand souls — let me come from that distance near.

Like Cercis, if that Friend slays me seventy times,
even if I die a thousand times, let me come forward a hundred thousand.

A hundred thousand times let me be born and wake, let me circle in the Friend's constellation;
let me be here and there at once — let me go and come.

When I was born in the Friend's constellation, why should I travel far?
In that sphere of love, every morning let me come around again.

I was declared lost — what remedy? I wander day and night astray;
to those who ask, the answer is this: let me come seeking and asking.

Even if I lie a thousand years in the earth, I shall never abandon "I am the Truth";
whatever hour is needed, let me come striking the breath of love.

Let the doubter come to my grave — call out the Friend's name, cry it!
Let me tear my shroud to pieces and rise up from my earth.

If I depart by the Friend's road, my return may be distant;
but the Friend's presence is with me — let me come giving signs at every moment.

What will happen beyond this, no ordinary mind can explain;
to the lovers, let poor Yunus come bearing glad tidings.

Poem 183

If I spend a thousand years praising, I shall not exhaust a mote of You;
in a single drop, a hundred thousand seas — I shall not expound a single point.

Whatever parable I make, the heart finds no rest;
who could make a likeness or example — God forbid I should liken You.

Who could make a form or image? You are free from form and image;
all minds are checkmated by You — how could I not seek pardon?

When the mind comes to annihilation and goes mad, what can it accomplish?
You are the cure for the mad — I went mad, so what should I not do?

Teach me now what the tongue should say — the condition is that it should speak of You;
if You grant success as a companion, I shall not let any other tongue speak.

Whatever You are, You are mine — do not leave me to my own side;
my need from You is this: do not make me seek myself.

Since the King is mighty, the slave's business is excess;
I am Yours — what sorrow for me, whether I sin or not?

Since I entered this sea, there is no shore, no island;
since waves strike from all four sides, my boat is strong — I shall never sink.

These words are not mine — existence is Yours; what is Yunus?
Since You are the master of my tongue, without You I cannot stir my speech.

Poem 184

You are the Generous, You are the Merciful —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.
Beyond You there is no hope for me —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

The appointed hour arrived, the term was reached;
this life's cup has filled;
who is there that remained without drinking?
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

My tongue's trigger broke;
my soul was torn from my body;
look — my eyes have glazed —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

They struck me; my water warmed;
all my kin and kin came;
farewell, my kin and kin —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Look, they have sewn my shroud;
my road has been sent to the Presence;
what of mine remains here?
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

The bier came; it is being wrapped;
it is carried out in four directions;
the community gathers for my prayer —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

They carried my bier;
they brought it to the prayer-ground;
they raised the beautiful takbir —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

They carried me there, crowding;
they lowered me there, unwrapping;
they cover my earth, digging —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

When they dropped me to the earth,
they threw handfuls of earth;
they pressed down with stones —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Look, they carried me;
they brought me to my grave;
they sat in a circle —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

When they finished the funeral,
they shoveled earth on top of me;
they all left and fled —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

I was left in a dark place;
one cannot go elsewhere from that place;
I met with a strange suffering —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

The graveyard did not cease filling;
our day became night;
we do not know how our state is —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Munkar and Nakir came;
each asked in a different tongue;
O God, You give the answer —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

It took me to the narrow road;
it brought me to the Bridge of Sirat;
my deeds give me no help —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Seven Hells, eight Paradises;
each has its own road;
on every road, a hundred thousand crossroads —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Created beings, angels,
whether drunk or sober —
health to you, O wakeful ones!
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

See how strange the age became;
from the heart, raise your lament;
all who are born of mothers die —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Yunus, stop — extend this word;
keep your face turned to your God;
do not separate us from the Face —
God, I have stretched out my hand to You.

Poem 185

The one who ascended to the Mi'raj alongside Muhammad — that is I;
the one who was naked with the People of the Bench — that is I.

I gave patience and contentment to them;
the one who made forty contented with a single shirt — that is I.

When I struck the lancet into one of those forty,
blood flowed from all forty — the one who showed this lesson, that is I.

Before the Prophet Adam and Eve were created,
the one driven from Paradise, that bankrupt one — that is I.

With the Prophet Moses I spoke a thousand and one words;
the one who ascended to the heavens with the Prophet Jesus — that is I.

In the time of Ibrahim Edhem, he abandoned crown and throne;
he looked to the love of God — the one who sensed that mystery, that is I.

Abdurrezzak, that dervish, took me as his companion;
the one hanged on the gallows with Mansur al-Hallaj — that is I.

With Omar al-Khattab I practiced much justice and judgment;
the one pressed at the limit in transgression with his son — that is I.

I affixed my name as Yunus, I struck my secret upon the world;
the one spoken on the tongue before the Tablet and the Pen — that is I.

Poem 186

My God, my God — there is none like You, my God;
I am sinful; forgive me, O my God of abundant mercy.

The servants are Yours, You are theirs; their sins are many;
cast them into Your Paradise, let them ride Buraq, my God.

I say: O Self-Sufficient One, what is the remedy for this pain?
For God's sake, do not spare me — burn me in love's fire, my God.

You are in neither poverty nor wealth, in neither mansion nor palace;
You entered the hearts of the humble and made Your dwelling there, my God.

Release me — let me burn sweetly, let me crumble to ash;
let me be a lamp for Your beloved Muhammad, my God.

I have no knowledge, no worship, no strength, no endurance;
unless Your grace makes our faces white, my God.

Forgive Yunus along with these sinful servants;
if You do not forgive — how bitter the separation, my God.

Poem 187

My soul is awake — the one who gazes on the Friend's face is I;
becoming a river to mingle with the sea, the one who flows is I.

Like a river I rush; sometimes I laugh, sometimes I weep;
the one who scorches the ego's liver, who demolishes pride and hatred — that is I.

I broke the ego's army, I leveled its tower and wall;
I purified its interior — the one who washes its domain is I.

I turned my face to the Presence; that saint of love opened my eyes;
he showed me myself — the one called "the universal sign" is I.

I saw the King's Face openly, without doubt, plain and clear;
an infidel is the one who does not believe — the one who gazes on that Face is I.

All this affair is mine, with its wisdom, this summer and winter;
I know stranger and kin — the one who stands inseparable is I.

The one who plays in every soul, who boils in every vein,
who speaks in every tongue, who says every language — that is I.

I turned Nimrod's fire into a garden and orchard for Abraham;
born from the face of unbelief, the one who lights the fire again — that is I.

I spoke "I am the Truth" with Mansur al-Hallaj;
and again, the one who fastened the gallows-rope to his neck — that is I.

When the Beloved of God, Mustafa, set forth on the Mi'raj,
at that moment my soul reflected — the one who sensed that secret is I.

Now my name is Yunus — in that time it was Ishmael;
the one who went up to Arafat as a sacrifice for the Friend — that is I.

This wheel of fortune is under my decree; wherever I sit,
the kingdom is mine, I rule — the builder is I, the destroyer is I.

The fortunate one is I, the happy one is I — Yunus too is with me;
my master is the knowledge of the unseen — the one who sensed those mysteries is I.

Poem 188

It took my heart — I do not know what I became;
I lost myself — I search and cannot find.

Heartless I entered the road — my state will not come to the tongue;
I seek one pained one to share my pain, and cannot find one.

I am grateful for my pain — I encountered it laughing and laughing;
when I find the pained, I cannot find myself.

If they ask me, "Who took your heart?" —
how can I give answer? I weep and cannot speak.

This One who took my heart fills the entire world;
wherever I look, I see no place without Him.

Do not sit sober — do not bring the sober ones;
I love love's drunkenness — I cannot become sober.

The one who offered Yunus the cup struck the note of "I am the Truth";
I drank from the saints' draught — I cannot come to my senses.

Poem 189

Since I drank love's wine, I do not know where I am;
so thoroughly have I lost myself — I search and cannot find.

I have become the ocean-sea, I have become the mine of jewels;
so wonderstruck have I become — I cannot come to myself.

Since I set foot upon Your path, I have made my existence nothing;
do not vanish from my sight moment by moment — without You I cannot be.

Since Your beauty filled the lands, all hearts are wonderstruck;
though You fill all tongues, I cannot take a sign from You.

Since I became drunk with Your love, since I found Your pain at every moment,
since I received the sign of union — I do not linger for Paradise.

Having rolled up my foundation — Yunus, my name from eternity —
I cut my taste from all else: I cannot part from Your love.

Poem 190

No wonder if for Your sake I offer my soul as ransom;
Your being suffices as my soul — it is well if I remain soulless.

The moment I saw Your face, my soul departed to You;
Your love suffices me wherever I may be.

To one who has not tasted You, my words are strange tidings;
I have no soul, I am not alive, if for one moment I am without You.

Having drunk the water of eternity, the taste of death does not appear;
how can decline reach me, if I go on loving?

So long as I love You, the hand of doom cannot reach me;
when Azrael extends his hand, I am made alive by You.

Though my form should fall, how can diminishment touch me?
I am Your eternal atom — no matter how many times I fall and rise.

Before even Alast had dawned, I was the lover and You the Beloved;
my eye does not look askance, though I enter a hundred thousand forms.

Before I even came into the world, my soul had loved You;
it is no burden on Yunus, however much I serve.

Poem 191

Do not look upon me as empty — I came having seen the Friend's face;
the eternal cycle of time, I came having spent it with the Friend.

What is there in the speaking tongue? All being in the servant is God's;
my being is entirely in that land — here I came as a stranger.

I am a merchant — my goods are many, my patron and master is the Truth;
I came having exchanged my loss for profit there.

Earth and sky were created — love was their foundation;
He gazed upon the dust — I sneezed, stood up, and came.

I saw all seven Hells and all eight Paradises;
in fear, I squeezed my sins out of myself and came.

Before I had risen as Adam, before I had wrung my ego's neck,
I erred — I ate the wheat — I came driven from Paradise.

I became Noah for the Flood's sake — I strove much for the faith;
those who would not turn to my faith, I drowned them in the water and came.

My words are no lie — look at my face, open your eyes;
my trace is not yet covered — see, I came striking the road.

I became Job — I afflicted my body, I tormented my soul;
I called upon my Lord — I came having fed the worms.

I became Zachariah — I fled, I reached the tree, I entered it;
I scattered my blood in four directions — I came having my head bored through.

With Moses I climbed Sinai — I spoke a thousand and one words;
let these people know: I was present there, and came.

I became Jesus — from Power, through the pretext of a woman;
grace came from God — I came raising the dead.

I became Cercis and was trampled — I became Mansur and was hanged;
like cotton of the carder, I was cast here and came.

One night God called Muhammad to the Ascension;
from end to end, from edge to edge, I came rubbing my face alongside him.

He was the Lord alone — He was the soul of prophets;
Yunus was hidden all along — I came changing forms.

Poem 192

O friends, do not question me — I do not know what I became again;
do not ask me of knowledge or deeds — I went mad and do not know.

I have tasted something other — I have forgotten what I knew;
I flung my soul into love — I do not know what I found there.

My mind went astray entirely — all my thought scattered;
I emptied out, and lo, I filled — but with what I filled, I do not know.

Love keeps burning me — my heart keeps flowing to the Friend;
I cannot gather myself — I am held breathless and do not know.

Without love I cannot be — with love I do not die;
love is the sum of my life — I know nothing other than love.

With this love I am turbid — I am neither drunk nor sober;
I neither sleep nor wake — I am wonderstruck and drunk and do not know.

Do not seek counsel from me, thinking I have become a sheikh;
I supposed I knew well — now I know that I do not know.

Lover Yunus, offer your soul as ransom on the Truth's path;
through this sheikh I found the Truth — I know nothing else.

Poem 193

I am the First, I am the Last — the one who is the soul of souls am I;
to those who lost their way, the one who stands ready to aid am I.

I held firm to one decree — who can sense my secret?
Where can the ignorant see me? The one who enters hearts am I.

The one who gazed in the moment of "Be!" — who ordered the world in a single glance,
who spread the banquet from His power and laid the foundation of love am I.

I spread these lands flat, I hammered down these mountains;
I made the heavens my canopy — the one who holds and stands am I.

More wondrous still: for the lovers I became creed and faith and belief;
even the disbelief and Islam and doubt in people's hearts am I.

To some I gave command — they lived their lives in sovereignty;
the burning coal, the heated iron, the one who strikes the hammer on the anvil am I.

The one who sends the snow, who freezes the ice, who gives the animals their sustenance —
know well: to that creation, the Merciful and Compassionate am I.

The one who orders life among people, who wrote the Four Books truly,
who set black on white — that written Quran am I.

The one who reached unity with the Friend, who holds whatever His command may be,
who adorned the kingdom and ordered the world — that Gardener am I.

In the world I am that Rustam — within the world I am the garden;
the one before me is You — the one who sees You in You am I.

I am the Truth's hand of power — I am indeed love's nightingale;
speaking every kind of tongue, the one who gives the people tidings am I.

The one who loosens tongues and palates, who makes love's cauldron overflow,
who brought Hamza over Mount Qaf — that venomous serpent am I.

Becoming rain falling upon the earth, becoming cloud rising to the sky —
in the eyes of the blind, the gray haze and fog am I.

It is not Yunus who says this — it is His own self that speaks;
an infidel is the one who does not believe: the First and Last, that alone am I.

Poem 194

The Kaaba and the idol — faith am I; the one who turns, wheeling, am I;
becoming cloud rising to the sky, becoming rain that falls am I.

Creating spring, adorning the earth — our heart's house is the dynasty;
content with father and mother — the one who knows the worth of service am I.

Becoming lightning that cracks, rebuking and striking the ego —
fortified in the earth's depth, that venomous serpent am I.

The one who brought Hamza over Mount Qaf, who loosened his hands and feet,
who toppled many from the throne — the wisdom-bearing sultan am I.

Binding flesh and skin and bone, making bodies and keeping them alive,
lying in wisdom's cradle, suckling power's milk am I.

Let the true lover come near — let us show the straight path;
the heart's city is a station — the one who stands without departing am I.

The one who says "earth and sky are mine," who says "west and east are mine,"
who calls out to the seas — my name is Yunus: the ocean am I.

Poem 195

From the eternal beginning to the end — the sultan without decline am I;
ruling over seven climes, holding earth and sky am I.

When I created this earth, when the sky stood upon the earth,
when the great sea surged with waves — the one who gave Noah the Flood am I.

I said "Be!" and this earth stood — the heavens too took their place;
a hundred thousand kinds of men came — the one who brought and dismissed them am I.

The one who descended into the well with Joseph, who set gold upon the scales,
who pressed down the pan — the lord of Egypt, that sultan am I.

With the sufi, being a sufi; with the pure, being pure;
the one who girds his waist in obedience — that Generous and Compassionate am I.

The one who rules from Qaf to Qaf, who placed the demons under his command,
who rode the wind and surveyed — the Solomon of this kingdom am I.

Binding flesh, skin, and limb — adding heart to worlds,
donning Adam's garment and stepping into the kingdom am I.

The eight Paradises are mansions and palaces for the lovers;
like Moses, the one who remained wonderstruck upon Mount Sinai am I.

I am the worshipper, I am the worshipped — I am present in all places;
the one who takes justice from the oppressors, who upholds the lowly am I.

I will name Tapduk to every tongue — I have put faith in every servant;
who, indeed, is Yunus? The one who speaks these words am I.

Poem 196

Since then I was willing — I came together with the Friend;
coming forth into this world, I arrived at a wondrous state.

That Friend opened my eyes, showed me my own self;
the secret in my heart — I spoke it and came to speech.

See from what nest I flew — I opened my secret to the people;
I fell into love's snare — I was caught and came to hand.

The one caught in the snare does not laugh — lovers find no rest;
I speak, yet my tongue does not know — I came with a strange song.

If I came here, I will go back to my land;
do not think I came here for gold or wealth.

I am not of speech and dispute, not of these seventy-two tongues;
what is my state, my condition? I came to this realm to inquire.

What state am I in? I do not know. I am in a snare — how can I laugh?
I am a strange little nightingale — I came to sing to the rose.

The Rose is Muhammad's essence — the nightingale is his companion;
with that Rose, from eternity, I came into the world together.

In mosque and madrasa I performed much worship;
burning in love's fire — from that I came to fruition.

Before Power had fashioned form, before the angels worshipped,
before the people had held the world — I came forward onto the road.

Again I asked Yunus — he said: "I saw the light of God;
like the first sun of spring, I came surging and rising."

Poem 197

Let me make the saints' grace my companion;
wherever I go, let me make all my affairs pleasant.

Let me leave this world and go — let me journey to the hereafter;
in that Paradise, let me make the Houris my companions.

Let me not wear softness on my body — let me be free of it all;
let me make my bed of earth and my pillow of stone.

Let me strike and demolish the house of the ego — let greed and desire burn in fire;
let me raise my hand from now on and wage war upon the ego.

My body and my soul have never known "I am the Truth";
if I have not known it until now, from now on let me encounter it.

The one who laughs here today will weep there tomorrow;
pouring tears freely, let me make my pillow wet.

Poor Yunus calls out: "I am the lover of the lowly";
if my outside is not dervish, let me make my inside dervish.

Poem 198

I do not know whose turn it is — death walks among us;
it has made the world a garden — death clips the sweet basil.

It takes the young man in his prime — the nightingale falls silent in his garden;
it leaves no hearth untouched — death takes the young.

It bends the waist of some, it demolishes the kingdom of some;
it spills the tears of some — death breaks the very strength of them.

It takes the brother of one, freely spilling the tears of the eyes;
it never mends the wound of the heart — death wearies of good deeds.

Making the young man old, it does not let him know himself;
coming and leaving one behind — death narrows their eyes.

It takes the young and old alike — it burns the mother's heart;
the golden hair of daughters — death loosens it upon the washing-board.

It takes the finest of the young — it drives their mothers mad;
the henna on the brides' hands — death settles it into the earth.

It takes the best of the young — it spills the tears of their eyes;
it makes Majnuns of their mothers — death burns their hearts.

Where is the one whose beloved was loved? Make your worship pure — walk on;
Poor Yunus says this: death swallows even the dragons.

Poem 199

O all you people of pain, come — the pain am I and the cure am I;
the hidden disbelief in the infidel, the faith within the believer am I.

I set the strife in the world — my fire reduced Mansur to ashes;
on his tongue I said "I am the Truth" — the rope around his neck am I.

The beauty and grace in Joseph, the grief and sorrow in Jacob —
now I am the full moon, now the crescent — the radiant moon in the sky am I.

The one who made Nimrod's form, who cast Abraham into the fire,
who did not burn a single hair — the fire and the ash and the sweet basil am I.

"Yunus" is the name of this body — the body is His foundation;
if you ask my name, then know: the Beloved of the soul am I.

Poem 200

O heart, show us grace — let us go together on the journey!
Passing beyond soul and body, come, let us set out for the Beloved.

What is the body on the Friend's path — shall I not abandon it?
Come, to see the Friend's face, let us sacrifice the soul.

Let us forsake this annihilation-within-annihilation for the Friend's sake
and journey in the realm of permanence-within-permanence.

Come, let us make the master's threshold the qibla of the soul —
come, let us be guests of that King of kings.

Come here — let us not scatter like rain-drops.
Let us gather like the sea and set our course for the ocean.

I have drunk the wine of His love breath by breath —
come, to see the Friend's face, let us make the Throne of the Merciful.

Since you would not be companion to this weak Yunus —
O heart, come, let us make that King the throne of Solomon.

Poem 201

In this mortal realm, how many times shall I be bewildered!
How many times laughing — or how many times weeping!

Now I make entreaties to the angels in the heavens —
now with the Throne and the sun I become the turning sphere.

I have cast my step beyond seven, four, eighteen thousand —
leaving the nine on the road, I submit to the King's command.

The Friend gave joy — I renounced sorrow.
In form I am human, and I am both soul and the Beloved of soul.

Now a mufti, a professor — now a discerner, now pure;
now a governor, now flawed — now with defect I become deficiency.

Now in the belly of the fish I speak with Jonah —
now I rise above the Throne, becoming a soul, becoming Salman.

Now I descend to the depths and with Satan I arrange evils —
now I rise above the Throne, journeying, circling.

Now I go and become a secret — I both hear and speak;
becoming a youth, now I am human, now I am forgetfulness.

Now rational discourse, jurisprudence, exposition and declaration —
now I become broken syllables, now the lord of Saturn.

How many times human in form yet beast in nature!
How many times a fox, a wolf — or a lion!

How many times stripped and singled, abstracted and alone!
How many times jinn or human — or how many times Satan!

How many times in love's arena shall I gallop the horse of self!
Or how many times, making my head the ball, become the polo mallet!

With Unity I become one, and Unity becomes one with me —
now I turn and become the sea, the drop, the ocean.

Now I burn in Hell with Pharaoh and Haman —
now I go to Paradise, with Ghilman I become Ridvan.

Now I become a warrior and battle the Franks —
now I turn Frank, becoming forgetfulness and rebellion.

Now I become unknown, rejected — I become Nimrod;
now I go and become Ja'far, the Flyer, the winged one.

Now I become renowned, possessing knowledge and desire —
now I walk in ignorance, becoming desireless and foolish.

Now I demolish, now I burn — I scatter the face of the earth!
Now I go, I rise to the Throne, and become king, become sultan.

Common folk cannot reach this secret — it is the Hidden Knowledge, O saint;
leaving Khidr on the road, I circle with the Cherubim.

How many times with agonies shall I burn in fires!
How many times shall I become grateful, remembering, a guest!

Or how many times with the Friend shall He become I and I become He!
Or how many times shall I fall far away, becoming sorrowful, becoming grief!

Let me abandon fire and earth and wind and flame to their origin —
let me depart the six directions, become bodyless, become soulless.

How many times Cercis and Jupiter, how many times Mars!
How many times Galen and Hippocrates, how many times Luqman!

These nine lions and seven serpents and four dragons —
I battle them and become Rustam, become legend!

One moment at rest — one moment in heedlessness, raw and unripe;
one moment I become frenzied, become Majnun, become bewildered.

Before anguish reaches the treasure of my heart, let me find a way —
O Hu! Let me enter the sea, become colorless and hue-less.

Knowing by the soul, let me abandon you-ness and I-ness —
let me go and become tongueless, become mindless, become beast.

They say "speak!" — what shall I do? If I do not speak, soul and body burn.
I too shall scatter pearls and become a thousand legends for the Friend.

I become profit, I become profitless — to the knowers I become secrets.
Now I turn and become the turning sphere, become speech, become Nu'man.

Now I go and become mud — now, turning to dust;
now I go and become jewel, become ruby, become coral.

I emerge from humanity and fly to the realm of the angels —
I become color, I become colorless; now I become being, now I become without place.

Now I obey God's command with a thousand souls —
now I turn disobedient, become Moses, become Imran.

Now I go and become David, rise to Solomon's throne —
now again I become lost, abandoning union, becoming separation.

Now I emerge from the dungeon, become free, become flourishing —
now again I become the gatekeeper, become prisoner, become the dungeon itself.

I become the gallows, I become the gallows-circle, I become the hanged — I become Mansur!
I become soul and body, I become this and I become that.

Now wilderness and ruin — now mirage, now dust;
now again I become prosperous — now a tent, now a canopy.

Now I go with honor and become a believer, blessed —
now I become a recluse, a guide, a monk.

Now I turn and become silent; now I seethe, now I come to my senses —
turning again with all my colors, I become garden and orchard.

Now I go and become an instrument, a word, become all-burning —
now I go and become possibility, become faith, become grace.

I become Breath, I become Adam, I become World — in the World I!
I become Breath, I become breathless — I become name and I become bread.

Yunus's portion comes from Tapduk and Saltuk and Barak —
since it surged from the heart, how can I remain hidden?

Yunus, now say this word to the lover, to the lover:
"For you I become sincerity — I become both the pain and the remedy."

Now I become the Pure, now the Sincere — with the Criterion;
now "the Merciful, the Compassionate," now "the Living, the Bestower."

Now I turn and become a sun — in my mote a hundred thousand Thrones;
now again I become a torrent and become a flood upon all worlds.

My beginning is Hu, my end is Hu — O Hu, there is nothing but Hu I become!
The First and Last remains, "and everything upon it perishes."

Poem 202

Let the elect and the common hear that I love You —
let gossips gossip: without You my life is forbidden.

Whoever does not taste the savor of You in the soul
walks as a soulless form, heedless of the world's condition.

In this moment I have seen You — how shall I be patient?
To see You for one moment, all the world is yearning.

For one who loves You, what need of houris and palaces?
For the soul that does not love You, every station is Hell.

If the wealth of both worlds were mine —
without You I need it not: with You the work is complete.

If I had a thousand years of life, I would spend them at this gate —
if I am truly a lover, I must die on this path.

It is You I need — what shall I do with myself?
If I have become You, let me lose me.

The longing of all worlds is to find You —
having found You, how could I be without You?

Many ask Yunus: "How is it, this love-intoxication?"
What can he do? — in the Assembly of Eternity, so the Pen was struck.

Poem 203

I am free of myself from remembering me —
what shall I do remembering? Indeed, what am I worthy of?

My companionship does not fit into courtesy —
for a discourteous person, why am I a companion?

I have fallen into the world handless, footless —
from the Place, how far I am from this state!

All who lingered have crumbled and remained —
I am neither drunk nor hungover nor truly awake.

Neither patience nor poverty, nor swift work —
neither tracing a step nor truly on the Path.

Today I came to the world — and look, I am leaving.
As if I stopped at a house: I am but a guest.

Where is Yunus? Where is motion, movement?
I have no capital — I am neither something nor nothing.

Poem 204

Wherever I turn, my affair is with love —
that is the turmoil in my heart: love is my companion.

My self grieves for the loveless — that is why my secret is disclosed.
When I see lovers, my inside and outside boil.

This love is our Merciful One — it is the soul of our soul.
For that reason, my constant battle is with Satan.

My soul is a bird, and my body is its cage —
when word comes from the Friend, one day my bird will fly.

I came and surveyed the world — today or tomorrow I go.
I cannot linger here: my work here is never done.

Yunus says: I am a lover — both lover and truthful.
Unlike other lovers, I have no ornament.

Poem 205

How long can I hide that I love that Friend?
It will not fit in my heart — what can I do but speak my secret?

That I walked holding my tongue was proof of my estrangement —
let me tear the curtain of distance, let me remove my veil.

With Him I shall make my state known to all worlds —
calling out good news, I shall raise the world upon me.

The lovers' heart and eye are open to the Beloved —
let me make my heart a servant: perhaps I shall reach the Beloved.

Let me sacrifice my soul to Him, if He will accept the soul —
since I shall die someday, how long shall I remain alive here?

As a thanksgiving upon my soul — if I die for the Friend:
death is necessary for all, and where shall I go before dying?

My affair with that Friend does not end with dying —
my deeds come with me; let me enter into my earth.

For everyone, what comes as Munkar and Nakir is their deeds —
my deed was the Friend; let me hold my deed and go.

What Yunus's tongue speaks is not the language of knowledge and deeds —
what does the tongue know of the Friend's news? I am one with the Friend in ways beyond telling.

Poem 206

As I make my secret one with that Beloved,
I drown in witnessing — it is right that I sound the trumpet.

Who is it that, seeing Him, can hide the state?
Show me that person — let me join hands with them.

These people say to me: "Keep it inside the soul!" —
when one mote of it is a hundred thousand worlds, tell me: how shall I keep it secret?

See what a single theophany does to Moses on Sinai —
earth and sky are full of theophany: how then shall I be patient?

With such a swift glance — from one Moses, a hundred thousand Moseses,
all intoxicated and bewildered: how shall I make plans?

No need for lovers to pray on Sinai —
wherever I am, the Friend is there: I make every place into Sinai.

Nothing remains besides me and the Friend —
let me count my day as spent, let me seize my night.

Guidance reached all, but those who do not pass beyond their desire —
let me strike the face of divine aid to the ground and make my love a lion-seizer.

The verifiers see what Yunus sees with his eyes —
what I speak is not a dream: let me interpret it by the stars.

Poem 207

I went walking at dawn and saw the graves —
mixed into the dark earth, I saw those delicate bodies.

Flesh rotting in the earth, the body lies hidden in the grave —
veins emptied, blood run out, I saw the sodden shrouds.

Fallen graves filled in, all their houses destroyed —
freed from every anxiety: what difficult states I saw!

Summer pastures pastured no more; winter quarters wintered no more —
silenced, unable to speak, I saw tongues in mouths.

Some in pleasure and feasting, some in song and good news,
some in affliction and toil — I saw their days turned to night.

Those dark eyes had gone cold; those moon-faces had vanished —
beneath the dark earth, I saw the hands that used to gather roses.

Some had twisted their necks and lay down, mixing their bodies with earth —
angry at their mother, I saw those who had turned away.

Some weeping and wailing — the angels of punishment scatter their souls —
I saw the graves caught fire and the smoke rising.

Yunus has now seen this and brought us the news —
my mind was bewildered, my reason gathered itself, even as I saw these things.

Poem 208

A glance came to me from the Truth — I became one who opens Truth's gate.
I entered the Truth's treasury and became one who scatters pearls and gems.

The crown of fortune was set upon my head — the cup of love was offered to me.
As I thirsted, I too drank of it breath by breath.

It intoxicated me, cast me into love — I was raw, love cooked me.
It gathered my reason to my head: I became one who distinguishes good from evil.

My affair turned to good, my head freed from anxiety —
cutting off the head of my ego, I became one who flees from evil works.

The ego's head was cut, it died — the works of corruption remained.
A glance came to me from the Truth: I grew wings and became one who flies.

I flew and alighted in a fair place — I thought this world was eternal.
O friends, I grew weary; I alighted, and again I became one who moves on.

Those who move on reached the station — they went there and found rest.
Life passed, the promise arrived: from my existence I became helpless.

My soul was helpless here — I had remained in this dungeon.
"Come," they said — I went there and passed beyond my existence.

Since Yunus came to know the Truth, since soul and heart joined —
since reaching that Tapduk, I became one who opens the hidden secret.

Poem 209

Where is the patience and composure for me to hear Your words?
Where is the mind and knowledge for me to love You without anyone knowing?

Where is the forbearance for them not to know my state?
Where is the strength and power for me to endure Your love?

Since my soul began loving You, my state shifts from state to state —
where is the capacity for me to learn the principles of religion, knowledge, and etiquette?

Honor, principles, a good name — all are deficiency on love's path.
What need have I of a good name, since my training is fed by love?

If I am truly Your lover, what is shame to me?
I would give my soul as thanksgiving if I could wear the garment of blame.

Asceticism, obedience, religious principles — they stand outside love's boundary.
Not comparable to love are prostration, bowing, and standing.

The Friend's face is a mirror — whoever looks sees their own face.
Let the selfless one come: I shall speak my secret to them.

Whoever looks with the eye of the soul sees what Yunus sees with his eyes —
but with the foreign eye, what can I say to anyone?

Poem 210

Word came to me from the Friend — let me rise and go from here.
Let me give this soul of mine as sacrifice, and then let me go.

That yard or two of cloth — it has no collar, no sleeve.
Let me make it my robe and wrap it on my shoulders, and then let me go.

The soul-taker will come and say "give up the trust" —
let me give the trust to its Owner, and then let me go.

My soul has gone — I remained as I was; helpless, I entered the road.
Let me see that my friends are glad, and then let me go.

Munkar and Nakir will come — earth and sky will fill with their voice.
Let me give them my answer, and then let me go.

My sins are many, my guilt is great — I used to walk pleasantly in the world.
Let me give the reckoning of what I have done, and then let me go.

This delicate body I nurtured — "I shall not abandon it," I used to say.
Let me lay it in the dark earth, and then let me go.

I have threshed the harvest of this life and brought it here —
Yunus says: "Let me prop up this shop, and then let me go."

Poem 211

That Almighty of "Be and it is," the Gracious One, the All-Holy — I am He.
The one who gives sustenance without ceasing — to all things, the Sultan — I am He.

The one who creates Adam from a drop, who brings forth the bird from the egg,
who speaks the tongue of Power, who performs remembrance — the All-Holy — I am He.

The one who makes some ascetics, who makes some sinners,
who covers their faults — the proof and the evidence — I am He.

To one servant He gives horses and women and much wealth —
and another has not a single coin: the Compassionate, the Merciful — I am He.

I am eternity, I am permanence — that Almighty, the Living, absolutely.
If Khidr becomes the water-bearer tomorrow, the one who grants forgiveness — I am He.

Know that the product of four elements — here is the proof — I am He:
fire and water and earth and wind — the God who lays the foundation — I am He.

The one who joins flesh, skin, and bone, who holds the body's veils —
my works of power are many: both the Manifest and the Evident — I am He.

I am both the Hidden and the Manifest, both the First and the Last —
the one who created all of these and set them in order — I am He.

There is no interpreter between us — the work there is evident to me.
He is the one who gave me tongue — to that sea, the ocean — I am He.

The one who created this earth and sky, who raised this Throne and Footstool —
a thousand and one names has Yunus: the Master of the Quran — I am He.

Poem 212

I abandoned all conventions, took the path of Unity — I am He.
Greed and ambition are far from me; the one who casts them behind — I am He.

The one who looks is I, the one who sees is I, the one who takes is I, the one who gives is I —
neither Gabriel nor Michael — the one who appointed Israfil is I.

In the seventh layer of earth, in the eighth level of heaven,
in all these tongues that speak — the one who completed the decree is I.

By His command I make the clouds play, I make abundance spring from the earth —
in my hand is the power-vessel; the one who gives the people their sustenance is I.

I held firm to one resolve — who can reach my secret?
The ignorant cannot see me — the one who enters hearts is I.

I called to the army of grace: "Let them rise to the Friend's threshold!"
Before the Throne, with my mind I stood in service — I am He.

The angels in the face of heaven — Yunus, what do they intend?
If the angels will not be still, the one who strikes the mace upon the Throne is I.

Has Yunus gone mad? Love was my guide.
All the way to the Presence, alone, dragging my face through the dust — I am He.

Poem 213

O Friend, let me enter the ocean of Your love, let me drown, let me walk on —
let the two worlds become my arena, let me ride the turning ages and walk on.

Let me enter the ocean and drown; let me become the alif, the mim, the dal —
let me become a nightingale in the Friend's garden, picking roses as I walk on.

Becoming a nightingale let me sing; becoming a heart let me tend souls —
let me hold my head in my hands, let me set out on Your road and walk on.

Becoming a nightingale let me go — O, how many hearts let me herd —
moment by moment let me press my face to the earth with love and walk on.

Thanks be — I have seen Your face, I have crossed the border of union.
Let me abandon this city of "I" and "You" and walk on.

Yunus is love's vagabond, the helpless one's helpless —
in You is the remedy for my pain; let me seek my cure and walk on.

Poem 214

If I speak my secret, no one understands my tongue.
If I practice patience, my heart will not stay still.

O wise ones, O wise ones — you tell me: what am I to do?
Since I saw the Friend's face, my mind will not return to its place.

In this state, how shall my work reach its end?
If work has left my hands, from my soul it will not leave.

I am neither wise nor mad — what does my condition resemble?
Drowned in the ocean of love, my heart and my eyes cannot be sated.

This fire of love burns steadily in my breast —
even if I were drowned in the sea, it would not go out nor err.

Twelve months of the year, love's fire burns inside me —
the more it burns, the greater my fragrance; my season passes and I do not fade.

All found their way to the Truth, through patience they reached God —
but the root of love is made of fire; mine will not come by patience.

How many times I told my heart: go, be patient, sit quietly —
at that very moment it grows worse; my heart will not take my counsel.

When Yunus's form has died and become earth —
know that from my inmost being, love's devotion will never depart.

Poem 215

From You comes cruelty and pain — shall I not cry out?
I have fallen into love's fire — how can I burn and not smoke?

Here I walk, burning and burning — my liver has all turned to blood.
By Your love I have gone mad — how can I not lament?

Let me fall into the ocean of Your love and drown —
I have no one to take my hand — do not leave me, let me not sink.

If the Houris of all eight Paradises came together in one place,
those who are not Your people, I would not count among them.

Yunus Emre — if you said this word a hundred thousand times, it would be too little.
Let those who hear become lovers — let me not draw this out.

Poem 216

O people of understanding, tell me — how shall I endure?
What strategy shall I devise, what thoughts shall I reckon?

That Idol has taken root in my soul, has seized my heart —
He has so beguiled me: to what else could I possibly bind myself?

He has made me such that I cannot tell night from day —
let Him take my body, conquer my soul — let me be deceived by Him.

I am a jewel and He is my mine; I am a slave and He is my Sultan;
He is my mind, my soul, my heart — why should I ever tire of Him?

Being without Him is forbidden to me; from Him my treasure is complete —
where else could I find such grace and generosity? Let me hear no more.

It is He who calls me "Yunus"; it is He who pierces my breast;
it is He who leaves me without myself — and yet "I am" — what is this I?

Poem 217

Let the Friend look upon my face — I have seen the King and come.
To the Height of all heights, without doubt I have arrived and come.

Do not mind my drunkenness; do not pin the name "madman" on me —
my drunkenness is from eternity; I have revelled since before time and come.

From eternity I was with Him; at the Covenant I said "Yes" —
from that ancient ocean I became a torrent and flowed and come.

I have reached His banquet; I have stood there calling the proclamation —
I gave my soul, my faith, my creed as thanksgiving and come.

The Light became my Jesus; the saints prayed over me —
many times from the earth I stood up and come.

Mansur says "I am the Truth" — burn your form in the fire!
Say "Let them come to the gallows" — I have set up the gallows and come.

Do not ask Yunus for news — wherever the Friend is, go there.
The one who sees gives the report — I have seen Him and come.

Poem 218

Time has passed, the age has turned —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.
All who came to this world have gone —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

The righteous did not remain — they went.
Corruption has overtaken this world.
This world's business is finished —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

The devils found their opportunity;
the heart darkened and died;
good living fell into decline —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

The scholars recite but do not hold to it;
they see the people but do not watch over them;
in hearts, joy does not grow —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

Commanding the good — that age is gone;
innovation came and the way of the Prophet died;
the fortunate have taken their share —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

O Yunus, know your own word;
look upon your own state;
die before death comes to you —
it is the call to prayer: let us go to the Holy Place.

Poem 219

Even if You visited a hundred thousand cruelties upon me,
I shall not turn my face from You.
Even if You took my very soul,
I shall not turn my face from You.

I love You with my whole soul;
I have become a slave to Your command;
I swear it by the Quran —
I shall not turn my face from You.

If You say "Enter the church," I shall enter;
if You say "Ring the bell," I shall ring it —
for lovers there is no decree —
I shall not turn my face from You.

Are You Jesus? Are You Moses?
Or are You Joseph of Canaan?
By God, You are the soul of all souls —
I shall not turn my face from You.

If Yunus is a true lover,
if I am faithful to the path of Truth,
if I am worthy of service —
I shall not turn my face from You.

Poem 220

I do not belong to this land — what am I doing staying here?
I have broken trap after trap of captivity; I am leaving.

I am one before whom the angels bow their heads —
I have a covenant with God; I keep that covenant.

That covenant I have fulfilled — whose concern is my work?
How much longer here shall I serve the self's pleasure?

It is not fitting for one who is a King to be a dog-keeper —
so what shall I do? I too have tasted the taste of affliction.

My fathers are called seven; my mothers I know as four.
My father and mother were one — why should I swallow grief?

From seven and two, from eighteen, from fourteen,
from twelve, from eleven — I step beyond.

How many right works I have left by the road and gone —
I became a pruner of that tree's branches: I prune.

Yunus stripped off his clothes and walked through the doors of seven prisons —
let me not remain without You any longer; I am freed from sorrow.

Poem 221

My first name was "Yunus" — I pinned the name "lover" to myself;
I abandoned modesty and courtesy, and left the news behind.

While I had my dignity intact — what is this "love" of mine?
With my own hand I smeared blackness on my face.

I have no corner to my name where I might make a shelter —
I hung the lovers' household upon my neck for nothing.

What merchant like me grows rich by brooding?
I cannot afford a single coin, yet I claimed the goods of Egypt.

Jesus could not find the way to the Presence with half a needle —
with all my desires, where does my baggage even fit?

In the school of lovers, Yunus was put to shame.
The lover reached the Beloved — I turned back to the world.

Poem 222

I entered the ocean of love and swam like a sea-creature;
traversing the waters, I wandered like Khidr.

I saw His beauty in a dream; I searched long in summer and winter;
I could not find it in the mountains or the stones — I strained the seas.

I asked the fish of the ocean — it was not far from its knowledge.
I entered the refuge of the broken-hearted; I became one who mends hearts.

Our heart became a great city — where else is there a city like it?
From its treasury I took jewels; I became one who adorns the shopfront.

I am the servant of that shop, filled with gems;
I am the nightingale of the Friend's garden; from the branch I have been arranging roses.

On that branch grows faith — when faith grows, doubt departs.
Night and day this is my only work: I became a Tatar to my own self.

Since my soul entered this body, I have no gaze for gold;
I fell beneath the feet — like earth I scattered into dust.

My body is earth, scattering on the road; my self leads me astray —
I saw the fortress of the self is high; I took up the pickaxe and began to dig.

Digging and digging I went down into the ground — look at this black-faced self!
It has no reverence for the Prophet; I became one who breaks its bonds.

This self and this world are passing — so where are those who came to the world?
You have deceived me, O world — I grew weary of your works.

Yunus rose and entered the road, taking all his exiles with him —
with the blood of my own liver I became one who writes the description of my state.

Poem 223

Before I came to this world, I was one with the Beloved —
with the quality of "Say: He is God," I was a sign-less Light.

At that time, life was unity with the Truth;
in that endless turning, I was neither Moses nor the Mountain.

I was with the Presence, in that immeasurable Power —
I had no partner; I was companion to no one.

Before earth and heaven were created, before "Am I not?" was spoken,
before Pen struck the Tablet — I was capable of the Ascension.

Many times I came and went, I created endless forms —
in this present age, it was Yunus I chose to deceive me.

224

The One who sent me here knows what work I came to do —
I have no rest in this world; I go on: I came on an errand.

Many times I came and went from this world, I clung to the saints' hem —
I heard the voice of Power; I came boiling over, surging.

With cold words I ruined hearts, I became fire and burned souls —
I cracked my secret open to the world; I came as a spectacle to this people.

I became Idris the tailor, I became Shith who wove the cloth —
with David's beautiful voice, sighing, I came to lament.

I fell in love with that moon-face, I scattered myself for that honey-mouth —
I gazed into dark eyes and, becoming black, I came to the eyebrow.

I became Moses and went to Sinai; becoming a ram, I came to sacrifice —
becoming Ali, I swung the sword: I came to wrestle in the arena.

A plain at the sea's edge, a bucket working in the well —
becoming the prayer on Jesus's lips, I came to work.

I became the moon and rose over the world, I became a cloud and climbed the sky —
becoming rain I fell upon the earth; becoming light, I came to the sun.

To those who passed beyond talk and chatter, to those who opened their eyes on the road —
to those who understood and discerned, I came falling upon them as an event.

I am the remedy of the afflicted, I am that mine of gnosis —
I am Moses son of Amram: I came down from Mount Sinai.

My road has come to rest in You; the One who speaks at dawn is God —
becoming the Truth on Yunus Emre's tongue, I came to fall upon the lips.

225

O you who call me dervish — what is dervish to me?
In the summer pastures of dervishhood, my movement is winter's.

I look at myself: I walk swaying and strutting —
spite and pride and enmity have seized my heart.

I took the dervish name, I dressed in the dervish cloak —
I looked at the road and was ashamed: all my work is wrong.

My sheikh is the greatest of all, on the road greater than the great —
but my heart was anxious; my ego at ease.

I guard my cloak and crown; I do corrupt deeds —
I hide from every side a thousand and one corrupt deeds of mine.

They ask me news of the road; I speak and they believe —
they think my heart is pure: what a wretched business is mine.

If you looked inside me — not half a coin's worth of substance —
yet from my outward commotion, whole worlds have been filled.

My face smiles at the people — but where is my service to God?
Look at this life of mine: all my work is wrong.

Yunus says: O companions, O my true saints —
the states on this road have been left to God.

226

If the seas were one cup, my thirst would not be quenched —
I cannot hold back my groaning; the tears of my eyes do not cease.

Again Mansur's cup was offered by the Beloved into my hand —
they struck fire from all four sides; no one knows my state.

Burning and burning I become ash on Your road, O Beloved —
if I burned a thousand times a day, my face does not turn from the Friend.

To love's pickaxe I became Farhad and set my head to the work —
I cut the stones ceaselessly; my Shirin does not ask after me.

Come, let us go to our country so that you may enter the gardens —
my orchards are flourishing; the rival cannot pick my roses.

The gardens of our country, their nightingales sing without ceasing —
fresh roses have opened; my rose-garden does not wilt.

Yunus says: O my Sultan, my soul has burned in love's fire —
if You give the remedy, then my soul shall never die.

227

Do not think I came of my own accord —
or that I entered this cage by my own heart's will.

I would break this cage, I would smash greed and desire —
I would weaken this ego so I might reach my origin.

I do not know what my origin is — the father is only a pretext —
I lived on blood in the eternal mother's womb.

Blood is not my food; greed and desire are my companions —
my bird flies to the Presence: it seems I have entered flesh.

Now I am a believer in worship, moment by moment in prayer —
now a libertine in the tavern: I am a strange mixture.

Look at me with wisdom, so I may become visible to you —
for in this form I have come in a hundred thousand guises.

Yunus Emre — where are you? You shall not remain in this prison —
where is the prison and where am I? Whose goods have I consumed?

228

I am Job — I am heartsick and afflicted; I seek a remedy for pain —
I am a lover, I am lovesick: for the soul I seek the Beloved.

I am Jacob: I wept, I suffered separation for Joseph —
I am Joseph: in the dungeon I seek the grace of the Merciful.

I went to Moses's Sinai to see the Friend's face —
my mind went in that moment: I seek the secret of the All-Holy.

I have reached a place that is not my homeland —
I reached the darkness with Khidr: I seek the Water of Life.

I loaded the ledger of my deeds and set out on the road —
to the destination of my purpose, I seek God's command and decree.

I am Yunus Emre — no one has ever known my state —
to present my state, I seek a man of gnosis.

229

Do not be far from service — you shall see the Sultan one day —
He shall show His face and you shall be struck with wonder one day.

Saying "Come near, My servant," casting His gaze upon your heart —
offering the eternal cup, you shall be lost in wonder one day.

The seeker is like a river, the guide is like the sea —
look kindly on the journey: you shall find the ocean one day.

If your body has had its portion, your soul shall find unity —
if you have pain, so what? You shall find the remedy one day.

Helpless, weak Yunus — why do you envy?
You shall shed all your belongings and stand naked one day.

230

Today the gathering is ours — let whoever says "ours" come —
love gave us its honey to drink: let whoever has tasted and swallowed come.

Within the cloak of contentment I drew the head of safety —
I cut the shirt of blame: let whoever knows and wears it come.

In this arena of love I cried out, I raised my voice —
the call to prayer is ours; I am the imam: let whoever wakes come.

In this ocean are many kinds of jewels that will not come to hand —
priceless pearls are not found: let whoever risks life and head come.

The heart's realm is not cleansed by erasing the design of form —
the water of mercy flows and roars: let whoever washes the heart's grime come.

O friends, hear my word — I have made my daylight into night —
I have lost myself entirely: let whoever enters God's road come.

Lowly Yunus has seen it and taken the divan in hand —
the learned ones could not read it: let whoever grasps this meaning come.

231

We are leaving this world — peace be upon those who remain —
peace be upon those who offer prayers of blessing for us.

Death shall twist our wrists and silence our tongues —
peace be upon those who asked after us when we were sick.

My body shall be laid open, the collarless garment shall be cut —
peace be upon those who wash us with a pure face.

Azrael takes our soul, the blood dries in our veins —
peace be upon those who spread our shroud and wrap us.

We are going to our Friend — we could not reach our aim —
peace be upon those who stand over us for the prayer.

A word is spoken among them; no one can endure this wound —
peace be upon those who carry us to the graveyard and lay us down.

Here all who come must go; they go on a road from which none returns —
peace be upon those who ask after our condition.

The lover is the one who loves God and makes God's pain the remedy —
peace be upon those who offer prayers of blessing for us.

Lowly Yunus speaks these words, his eyes filled with tears of blood —
let those who do not know us be: peace be upon those who know.

232

The eye that has seen You — why should it gaze elsewhere?
The soul that has sensed You — why should it be at rest in the body?

The lover who falls into Your love burns with Your pain always —
Your union is the remedy: what should the physician treat?

Your love, O my eternal King, has set existence within nothingness —
let the lover who grasps this mystery make nothingness the quarry.

You are a wealthy Sultan, boundless and without end —
Your description does not fit the pen: how should the tongue keep count?

To the one who has tasted this flavour, who has swallowed this jewel —
to the soul fallen into Your pain: what should the physician treat?

The one who is truly Your servant, who gives his heart to You —
the one who finds You within himself: where should he journey?

Where is the one who grasps this secret — what a gnostic that soul would be!
The jewel mine has opened: let whoever takes it spread the news.

We stood firm on this road, we struck the ego's neck —
we gave our heart to You, O King: what victory should the enemy claim?

Now Yunus remains, his face blackened before the Presence —
he is bankrupt, he has nothing: with what should he do business?

What should this Yunus do, what should he do, how should he walk this road —
having given his heart to You, let his eyes grow heavy with longing.

233

I came from before the beginning, from before earth and heaven were created —
from before Throne, Footstool, Tablet and Pen were ever spoken of.

I was in conversation with the Friend, I was within in seclusion —
what kind of thing is Adam? — from before he was ever mentioned.

A hundred and twenty-four thousand souls are within my soul —
Muhammad's hidden soul is yet more inward than us.

Those souls are a veil to Him; He is Light within Light —
love stands eternal there, from before it was ever parted from the souls.

Love is God's existence, the flourishing of earth and heaven —
love made us radiant, each of us from one another.

First He created Adam, then the prophets —
at last Muhammad's light blazed forth from within us.

From Father Adam onward — saint, Friend of God, prophet —
God honoured Ahmad above them all.

Seventy thousand years before, He created Muhammad —
God Himself fell in love; the pretext was a single star.

That star that existed — where was Adam's soul then?
And all these prophets — before they were spoken of from any mouth?

The scholars do not know this; any ordinary mind cannot reach it —
it is divine guidance: it was unveiled to Yunus from our Master.

234

My eyes to see You, my hand to reach You —
today I lay my soul on the road so that tomorrow I may find You.

Today I lay my soul on the road; tomorrow You shall give its recompense —
do not offer me Your Paradise: I have no desire for Paradise.

What need have I of Paradise? My heart never looks at it —
this lamentation of mine is not for the sake of a garden.

That Paradise you speak of, with which you entice the believers —
a house and a few Houris: I have no desire to embrace them.

Here too You gave us sons and daughters, wives and lawful things —
my desire has passed beyond even those: my sigh is for the Face.

Give that to the pious — I need You, only You —
how should I abandon You for the sake of a house and a pavilion?

Yunus stands in longing for You — show him the face of Your longing —
if Your business is not cruelty, grant justice so that he may come.

235

Why, you commanding self, do you not wake from this heedlessness?
You do not press the rose of Muhammad's law against your face.

Though a thousand kinds of wisdom are spoken in your presence —
you never pull the cotton of wretchedness from your ears.

From the evil of your many sins the roses of your faith have wilted —
why do you not water them at every moment with the water of grace?

Those many sins of yours have made you sick —
helpless one, why do you not go and seek a cure for this disease?

You are ashamed before your friends and do your sins in secret —
your Creator, your Maker, is present: why are you not ashamed before Him?

You are not ashamed before your Beloved, the physician of your pain —
you do whatever you wish: it seems you are not ashamed before God.

Those who came from you, with your own hands you laid them in the grave —
seeing this with your own eyes, why do you not reckon with your death?

You have heard that Mustafa himself did not remain on this earth —
knowing this as you do, why do you not make your preparations?

Yunus — to whom do you speak? Whose cares do you bear?
You give counsel to the people — why do you not hold yourself to it?

236

Whoever grasps the trace of love passes beyond religion and nation —
does one who counts himself as nothing choose sect or creed?

Whomever love reaches, it leaves nothing but itself —
whoever feels what love is cannot be parted from it by an atom.

No hope of Paradise, no fear of Hell —
one who gives himself away, setting good and evil aside.

If he says "That is I" — so be it; to know one's own selfhood is error —
let go, be content: leave reason and follow love.

If you ask about the lovers — they are without sect and without nation;
beware the one who counts the days and nights: he remains on the road.

Neither disbelief nor faith on that road counts as profit or loss —
free of profit and loss is the one who washes the slate of existence.

Yunus — take away this "I" of mine: whatever the Friend does, He does —
know your helplessness, be silent, go and dye yourself in love's colour.

237

Let whoever comes to this path of dervishhood come with love —
or let whoever has felt even a particle of what dervishhood is come.

We did not come to this road through pretence —
let whoever would wear this cloak of blame with us come.

Let him cover with his hem what his eyes have seen —
this road is a very fine road: let whoever beats his heart come.

The great saints, the small — they have said: those who love us —
let them not turn back: let whoever loves God come.

From the one who speaks these words, we need a sign —
the short of the matter is this: let whoever stakes his life come.

Yunus — no one ever reached true rank through words alone:
this means putting the body on the line — let whoever lays it out come.

238

What do they want with this mortal world
when the love of God exists?
Where else would they go
when the love of the Friend exists?

The one who is with God —
his every deed becomes grace.
What do they want with other troubles
when the love of God exists?

See these people, by God —
they do not seek the beautiful Truth.
What do they want with wealth and property
when the love of God exists?

Hear this word, O lovers —
may it make you fruitful.
What do you want with sons and daughters
when the love of God exists?

Yunus, do not look to yourself —
worship, do not remain deprived —
do not give your heart to anything else
when the love of God exists.

239

Let whoever comes to the dervishes' road come with sincerity —
let whoever has driven all but the Truth from his heart come.

What they call dervishes is an inexhaustible mine:
commoner and sultan alike are its servants — let whoever takes from this mine come.

The dervish fills and rises, with every breath ascending to the sky —
I will speak the truth: let whoever stakes his life come.

Dervishhood is a morsel greater than earth and heaven —
let whoever can swallow and digest this tremendous morsel come.

The dervish's eye is open, awake day and night —
my God is witness to this word: let whoever sees without looking come.

The dervish's ear is keen — he hears his lesson from the Truth;
without lip or tongue stirring — let whoever hears the word come.

The dervish's hand is long — it puts out the eye of the denier;
reaching east and west at once — let whoever arrives without reaching come.

Dervishes are the friends of God — their souls are drunk on the Truth;
they have lit the candle of love — let whoever would be the moth come.

See this poor Yunus — he has been doing dervishhood;
his complaint is from his own ego — let whoever has killed his ego come.

240

Thanks and thanks to God — I have reached my purpose today!
I was longing all this time — I saw my master's face today.

Grief had taken hold of me, my soul was brought low —
I saw my master's face and drove that grief away today.

Let whoever has fallen far from the Beloved come, whose heart roasts in exile —
I have entered the feast of love in the Friend's garden today.

See, see this fortune! This glad tiding that comes with love!
In the Friend's garden I have raised the tent of love today.

Yunus says: I am the Beloved's servant, the nightingale of the Friend's garden —
let me sing from now on: I have reached my rose-garden today!

241

O friends, O brothers — the appointed hour will come: I shall die one day.
I shall feel remorse for my deeds and come back to myself one day.

My hands will be laid at my sides, my tongue will speak no more —
my deeds will come before me: whatever I did, I shall see one day.

The boy goes to the schoolmaster; it brings to friend and foe alike —
with that four-takbir prayer my time shall be fulfilled one day.

My garment is five spans of cloth; snake and scorpion will eat my body —
the year will pass, my grave will cave in, I shall be forgotten one day.

They will plant a stone at my head — I shall know neither morning nor night;
O Lord, hope of all the worlds — I shall be obedient to You one day.

Yunus Emre — you have not yet finished this word;
let me just keep walking — what else can I do? I shall come to my Master one day.

242

Come from form to attribute — you shall find joy on the road.
Do not linger in illusions, or you shall be deprived of the way.

On this road there are many wonders — do not call them wonders yet:
the true wonder shall be there: you shall see the Friend's face.

Gird the belt of love, set out on the Friend's road —
if you endure the struggle, you shall attain the vision.

From here to the city of love, three hundred seas they cross —
crossing three hundred seas, you shall find seven Hells.

Burn in the seven Hells — become ashes in each one;
leave your body there, and you shall find another body.

The city of the Truth is real; seven are its gates —
at its threshold you must see a hundred kinds of power.

At the first gate stands a single person;
he says to you: "Surrender — come: you shall find humility."

At the second gate there are two lions;
they have frightened many — see that you do not fear.

At the third gate there are three dragons;
they charge at you — see that you do not turn back.

At the fourth gate there are four elders;
this word is a riddle for you — see that you find the proof.

At the fifth gate there are five monks;
they sell all manner of wares — see that you do not buy.

At the sixth gate sits a single Houri;
she says to you: "Come here" — see that you do not go.

For if you go there and take that Houri,
for the sake of a promise you shall be deprived of the road.

At the seventh gate the Seven sit;
they say to you: "You are free — enter: you shall see the Friend's face."

When you enter within, you shall see the Friend's face —
you shall drink the sherbet of "I am the Truth" from the Friend's hand.

What I have spoken is not outside the body —
if you contemplate it, you shall find it all within yourself.

Yunus speaks these words from the Truth's own being —
if you seek its mine, you shall find it among the humble.

243

The wheel of heaven did not exist when our souls were —
we were friends in that time, when Azrael was still a stranger.

For how many years we were gathered there in the mine of souls,
speaking gnosis in the realm of reality.

God's love was in the soul, this knowing was there —
where were Adam and Eve when we were the Beloved's companion?

Yesterday pure Adam came and stepped upon the earth —
Iblis deceived him in that moment as he wandered in Paradise.

In that time we were flying — orbiting, departing —
drinking wine of light while the Truth feasted us.

Souls made acquaintance there, hearts caught fire in that moment —
the people of the world mingled, while the seas boiled.

Thanks that we have come to this moment — we found the friends here;
we ate bread and salt together while playing at love's time.

There was no son, no daughter — we were one there;
we were all neighbours, summering upon the mountain of light.

There was no sky, no earth — no above, no below.
Yunus — bring word of the Friend while burning with love.

244

I go — my reason flees from my head —
I burn, having fallen into love's fire.

You cast fire into my soul — day and night it burns;
I burn, catching flame, blazing up.

What wonder if love has broken me —
who has not been broken, wrestling with love?

Be lover to the Beloved's face —
be Beloved, clasping love.

Yunus — give your soul to love as a thanksgiving;
no one finds the Friend by merely seeking.

245

The heart has become bewildered — by the hand of love;
the liver has become roasted — by the hand of love.

How many have left crown and throne, wealth and property,
and become naked — by the hand of love.

My self has lost all patience and repose;
my eyes have become weeping — by the hand of love.

The snowy mountains melted, particle by particle;
the sea has become an ocean — by the hand of love.

Ibrahim Edhem left his crown and throne —
his place became the furnace-house — by the hand of love.

O excellent Mansur — on the Beloved's road
his head was raised upon the gallows — by the hand of love.

What did Majnun see in Layla's face
that he became bewildered — by the hand of love?

What did Zulaikha see in Yusuf's face
that her state became nothing but lamentation — by the hand of love?

Since the nightingale fell into the pain of affection,
its tongue has become laughing — by the hand of love.

My Yunus Emre — to this longing, to this wailing,
has become a strange guest — by the hand of love.

246

Beware — do not give your heart to the world's foot one day;
whoever gives his heart to the world shall fall into its trap one day.

This world is a serpent that swallows men —
it will come to us too and swallow us at its feast one day.

Do you not see the earth? — it lies embracing the finest ones;
it shall take us too into its bosom one day.

That bird whose nest is in the falcon's hand —
when will it stay? It will go to its pasture one day.

Poor, helpless Yunus — hold fast to the saint's hem,
that he may bring you to God. Fall into his lineage one day.

247

What is greater than that a person should know himself?
The one who knows himself — among all people he is the chosen.

A person must know much, and must take counsel —
the one who says "Let me reach the station" — you shall know, gently, gently.

This road is terribly long, the world is a snare upon it —
the one caught in this snare must not abandon his guide.

The one who says "I would be safe," or who seeks safety —
let him leave behind this dispute and press his face to the earth.

Whoever serves the saints shall be saved from torment —
surely he shall be forgiven who has seen a saint's face.

Yunus brings a word: those who hear it shall be glad —
the one who says "Let me find the treasure" — let him follow the saints' trail.

Poem 248

You recite "without partner" — then you add a partner.
From whom did you get a ruling to call one into two?

The foundation of religion and faith is truthfulness and sincerity —
when that is not complete, with what do you construct a faith?

The Quran came down from heaven — God commanded it.
Give an account of that! But no — you parrot from books.

You read composed books, grammar upon grammar —
but fear and hope are not in you: you are like a Tatar.

The meaning of learning is to know —
and knowing means to know yourself.
If you know not yourself, you are worse than a beast.

The purpose of learning is to understand the lesson —
since you take no lesson, you cast stones without seeing.

Mustafa gathered twelve thousand hadiths —
you heard them, perhaps; yet you sell words through commentary.

You pray with pretense — your sins many, your good deeds few.
Listen where this ends: you shall lie in Hell.

You issue rulings to the people — then why do you not follow them yourself?
You have knowledge but no practice: you sink deeper into sin.

You are the jurist; I am the poor one — you have no acquaintance with us.
If you come with sincerity, you will profit from what we have.

This is the ordering that has been woven — do you say it is different?
You cannot master it, teacher: you are consumed by anxiety.

Poor Yunus speaks these words from the realm of love —
do not say you did not know: you add from yourself.

Poem 249

God created a jewel from His own power —
He gazed upon the jewel, and it melted from His majesty.

He created seven layers of earth from that jewel's light,
seven layers of sky from that jewel's steam.

He created seven seas from that jewel's droplets,
and made the mountains firm from that sea's foam.

He created Muhammad from compassion for creation,
and He created Ali from His grace to the believers.

Who knows the workings of the unseen, except from the Quran's knowledge?
Yunus drank and was intoxicated — from that jewel's sea.

Poem 250

Leave your crookedness and come to the straight path —
cast out pride and hatred, and take your share from the saints.

Whatever you give with your hand — that alone goes with you.
If I say so, you will not believe; but when you depart, you shall see.

Rust gathers in the heart and there it destroys you —
a King sits within, yet you cannot enter and see Him.

Twelve are its chambers, seven are its gates —
two beauties dwell within, and you know not to ask.

Go kill your brother, then divorce your wife;
contract your mother's marriage — and you shall see God face to face.

Wretched poor Yunus, you make claims about love —
when news comes from the Friend, press your face to the ground and go.

Poem 251

Come, let us burn today so as not to burn tomorrow —
let us die while we are still deathless, so as not to die again.

Let us weigh our sins, let us increase our sighs —
let us settle our accounts, so there be no accounting.

Let us go to the saints and hold their hems —
let us act today, so as not to be stranded on the road.

Look and see this world; know what you came for —
so as not to be deceived by this mortal world.

Yunus — there is no taste to this world, since its very name is "mortal."
Muhammad called it a prison, so that we should not be glad of it.

Poem 252

If I were to tell the news of Love's land, would you hear it?
Would you become a companion on this road and come along?

The garden of that land — its sherbet is poison.
No cup can hold that poison: would you drink it and swallow?

The provisions of that land are suffering, to take and carry.
They hand sugar to others — would you taste the poison?

In that land there is no moon or sun; the moon neither wanes nor waxes.
Would you abandon the ordering of things and forget the counting?

Would you cast off you-and-I, enter the house of nothingness,
drink from love and be intoxicated — would you abandon existence?

This ordering of yours is fire, earth, wind, and water —
Yunus, look at yourself: are you in the water or the earth?

Poem 253

Let me dive into love's ocean as a pearl-diver for a moment —
let me seek You always, let me wander for a moment.

Let me go to every gathering, not tell my secret to every tongue —
let me be a guest among those who speak of the secret, for a moment.

Let me become Mansur on Your road, let me sound the cry of "I am the Truth" —
let me hang upon the gallows of union for a moment.

Let me burn in love's fire, let me bleed in pain's waters —
let me take all I see for You; let me be bewildered for a moment.

Let me pour my bloodied tears, let me multiply my liver's wounds —
until I find my Painter, let me wander for a moment.

Becoming Majnun with Layla, carving stones with Farhad,
burning like Abdurrezzak — let me weep for a moment.

Let me cast the I away from myself, let me sense Your fragrance —
after all this time as a slave, let me be sultan for a moment.

That Friend is nearer to me than I am — whoever knows wisdom finds God.
Let me study wisdom's knowledge; let me be Luqman for a moment.

Poor Yunus, open your eyes — press your face toward the Presence.
On the road of the perfect guide, let me be a sacrifice for a moment.

Poem 254

What shall I say to lovers — sweeter than any news of love?
To whoever listens with love, let me tell it one by one.

It is a waste to speak of love to those without love —
whoever is a true lover, to them I shall lay bare my secret.

Before earth or sky existed, love's foundation was there.
Love is ancient from pre-eternity — love brought forth all that exists.

Whoever saw the Friend's face at the feast before time —
that one's soul is the lover. Ask them for the news of love.

I cannot compare love to any thing —
in this world or the next, nothing can hold love's place.

The news of love is a trust — guard it, beware!
Do not sit in any common place and speak love's words.

Among jewellers the rule is this:
one does not show the gem to those who do not know its worth.

Yunus's bosom is full — love has filled his breast.
He could not hide his pain: he speaks love's tongue without ceasing.

Poem 255

You have not yet passed beyond your own soul, yet you desire the Beloved.
You have not cut the girdle from your waist, yet you desire faith.

You recite "He who knows himself" — but you are not that one.
You desire a journey higher than the angels.

Like a newborn child, making your hem a horse —
without taking the polo-stick in hand, you desire the field.

You do not know yourself — what jewel you are within the shell.
Though you are sultan in Egypt, you desire Canaan.

In the realm of pre-eternity you did not watch for the Eternal —
your wing and feather have not grown, yet you desire to soar.

Seventy-seven veils stand between you and the Friend — do not desire Him yet.
You have not passed through seven, yet you desire nearness.

Thirty are in the eye, thirty are in the heart —
you do not even know the ten, yet you desire to see.

You came here for a purpose, and soon you shall depart.
You have not yet become a servant, yet you desire to be sultan.

Yunus, you have fallen into this pain — be patient like Job.
You cannot endure the pain, yet you desire the cure.

Poem 256

Drowned in Your knowledge, I cannot know myself —
though the tongue speaks, it cannot reach Your attributes.

Your attributes do not come to the tongue — who can know where You are?
I am not worthy even to speak of Your craft.

You are the First and the Last, manifest in every place —
there is no station without You. Why can I not see?

Not seeing, I went mad; I erred and sinned.
My wits and reason were stolen — I was intoxicated and cannot sober.

Since You intoxicated me and took my soul and heart —
do not part me from You: I have found You, and will not become a stranger.

You gave me my soul, You informed Azrael —
to no one other than You can I entrust it.

O Creator of Yunus, lift the veil from between us —
I am faithful on Your path: I make no false claim.

Poem 257

You who have captured so many hearts — are you the sultan of this world?
Your decree is within souls: are you the soul within the soul?

Your glance takes a thousand souls; your pain lodges in the heart.
Whoever sees You departs from themselves — are you the one who slays the lovers?

The flying birds fall swooning, the blowing wind halts at the sight —
the demons come under your command: are you Bilqis-and-Solomon?

The sun eclipses before your face; the moon is ashamed to rise.
Whoever sees you stands in awe — are you Joseph of Canaan?

If the dead see you, they come alive — a soul enters the body.
A voice comes from the earth: are you Jesus son of Mary?

Your love drives the wise mad, chains the lion,
makes hard stone into wax — are you the Farhad of the age?

Your love brings one to God — the eye of the soul sees the Face.
Those who see bow their heads: are you Ibrahim Edhem?

Your face is the light of the Vision; your hair is the night of the Ascension.
Whoever sees forgets their soul — are you the Pride of the World?

Yunus — love with what you love; follow God's path closely.
Hide your secret in your heart: are you the one who gives words their meaning?

Poem 258

I have wasted this life for nothing —
see what fire I have cast my soul into.

No one has ever done to anyone
what I have done to myself.

I gathered and carried away the goods of my deeds —
I sold all my profit at a loss.

For a broken earthen shard in this world,
I sold my jewels at a loss.

Whatever deeds I have are all pretense —
how strange that I have forgotten sincerity.

No one knows where the night will end —
yet I have stretched out the head of long desire.

My whole life was driven to expense —
from the losses it is clear what profit I have earned.

I reached for poison calling it honey —
I have mixed deadly venom into my food.

Wretched Yunus — his sins are many;
yet I have turned my face toward His court.

Poem 259

When this soul sees the Friend's face, how shall it be still?
At that moment, a hundred thousand ascetics plunder their faith.

Do not cast blame upon the lovers, whatever state they fall into —
whoever is submerged in the divine vision cannot command themselves.

When soul and heart, mind and reason are drowned in love's tide —
how then shall that person remember sin and reward, profit and loss?

The one who has no eye in their soul shall not see the Friend's face —
without eyes, how can they understand what colour this world is?

A hundred thousand kings and sultans, upon seeing the Friend's face,
would abandon their thrones, their honour, their armies, their households.

However ruined the lover, his sainthood ever grows —
for the hidden treasure is always in the ruin.

The one who sees with the eye of certainty does not lift their gaze from the Friend's face —
how can those standing outside this love ever see Him?

This burning love in Yunus will not let his tongue be still —
between the lover and the Beloved, no tongue can speak the secret straight.

Poem 260

I am that orphan pearl the ocean has not seen —
a drop, I am, yet to the ocean I am the ocean.

Come, see the wondrous waves; watch the hidden sea —
from a boundless ocean, it lies concealed within a drop.

Mansur would not have spoken the unity of 'I am the Truth' —
love hung me naked on the gallows by the Friend's tresses.

In this world of multiplicity, you are Joseph and I am Jacob —
in that world of unity, there is neither Joseph nor Canaan.

Here, before Majnun spoke Layla's name in measure —
there, I was neither Layla nor the wandering Majnun.

Before yā-nūn-sīn met, before the soul fell into the well —
we came intoxicated by love's taste, and intoxicated we depart.

It is my body's affliction that my name is Yunus —
if you ask my essence: I am the sultan of the sultan.

Poem 261

When that soul dies, you shall be its soul —
when the dead heart revives, there where you are.

Dying shall become living, it shall find deathless life —
for the wounded heart, you shall be the remedy.

Hearts where you dwell renew their soul at every breath —
these are the ones who never die: you shall be their sovereign.

In the station where you are, the people of justice gather —
nothing is difficult in that assembly: you shall be its sultan.

When the soul flies from the body, when it departs its dwelling —
when it crosses to that world, you shall appear before the eye.

The wind cannot take your dust, not a mote shall be parted —
the lover's soul does not die: you shall be its Beloved.

Yunus, if you are a lover, if you are in accord with love —
fear not, you have arrived: whatever you become, you shall be.

Poem 262

My state has become wondrous from the hand of this love —
I cannot see my path from the hand of this love.

I who was the crown of all the world —
am dust beneath feet from the hand of this love.

Like a strange nightingale, I cry out my sorrow —
my spring of tears flows from the hand of this love.

Like autumn leaves, my face has yellowed —
darkened, I have fallen from the hand of this love.

Tomorrow at the Judgement, I shall tear my collar —
how shall I cry out from the hand of this love?

Mountains and stones melt from the hand of this love —
seas surge into tumult from the hand of this love.

Thousands of prophets were captive to love —
earth and sky are brimming from the hand of this love.

They call out and say, 'Come, you who suffer' —
what is my torment from the hand of this love?

What do I want beyond union with the Friend —
my stature has bent from the hand of this love.

Yunus, pray to your Tapduk —
you drink deadly poison from the hand of this love.

Poem 263

O heart, are you not weary of this journey? —
May my Çalap guard you from danger.

Rather than bearing another's fury —
to go and disappear is better than being seen.

Since birth, exile has carved my liver —
liver's blood seeps and drips from the veins.

Home has become thorns, exile a rose garden —
drinking poison has become better than sugarcane.

What they call a gem is the knowledge of skill —
in the skilful one, skill is better than gems.

Yunus, while going breast-open to the Friend —
may my Çalap guard you from danger.

Poem 264

He who stole my heart made me abandon faith and nation —
for one who sees Him, neither heart nor soul remains.

Those who do not know my state say, 'He abandoned his religion' —
with what shall one nourish faith, who is left soulless and heartless?

In my form, my existence was soul and heart —
he who bestowed love upon me made me abandon them all.

Love's border-guard lets me rest on nothing —
neither in Islam nor in faith: infidelity and belief go unmentioned.

Where the soul is held captive in love, there are no conditions or duties —
the tongue speaks answer-words: how shall it know this language?

No proverb binds love; love's business is beyond accounting —
in friendship's commerce, profit and loss go unmentioned.

He stripped me of selfhood, washed the ledger of existence —
he who cast good and evil from his hand shows neither fear nor hope.

He made me drop work from my hand, made me gaze without qualities —
in our condition, name and sign go unmentioned.

Ask no news from Yunus — wherever the Friend is, go there —
free from a hundred thousand gems, plunging into the sea of love.

Poem 265

You who loved the saints — why have you turned denier?
Guard your sweet soul well, before the arrows fly from the bow.

Wrath is the saints' name, zeal is their robe of honour —
the saints' bow is stiff, their arrows pierce through rock.

Those who love us, we petition God for them —
those who turn to denial are swiftly removed.

Here, hands and feet are kissed; the beholder's soul is seized —
from lodge and mosque-house, a strange guest is fashioned.

If he drinks poison, let it be sweet; if he drinks wine, let it be pleasant —
let him be Yunus's companion: let him come, the one going to his God.

Poem 266

If the Friend will not come to us, let me go again to the Friend —
bearing cruelty and torment, let me see my Friend's face.

Our capital was one soul — even that, this love has taken —
neither capital remains nor shop: why should I go to the market?

The shop and market are set up; the Friend has entered and walks within —
my sins are many, my heart weeps: let me plead with the Friend at length.

My heart says, 'The Friend is mine'; my eye says, 'The Friend is mine' —
my heart says to the eye, 'Be patient: let me give you news a moment.'

At a soul on which God has gazed, one must look with a single eye —
upon one on whom God has gazed, how should I cast blame?

Tapduk says to this Yunus: 'This love must reach the Truth —
He is higher than all: how shall I reach Him?'

Poem 267

O heart, for one breath, for one moment — do you not weary of the world?
With all these corrupt deeds, do you not blush with shame?

Keep yourself pure and fair; seek forgiveness from the Friend —
binding yourself to the ways of faith, will you not don religion's robe?

O you who sell your goods for counterfeit, who mix dross with your gems —
you who sell profit for loss, do you not reach for the profit?

Afflicted within zeal, trapped within sins —
the heart is sick on religion's road: will you not lean on earnestness?

Undying is the one who drinks union's wine and crosses the sea of sin —
departing from the tavern, are you not satisfied with mosques?

He who roams the earth and sky, who circles the Throne and Footstool —
O heart, will you not linger one moment beside Yunus?

Poem 268

Make me so bewildered that I burn in love's fire —
wherever I look, let me suppose that what I see is You.

My sultan has called me — my soul is the heart departing —
he dropped selfhood from my hand: how should I linger here?

My soul caught your scent; I abandoned this world —
where, I wonder, is your place? Or where should I seek?

I am the lover of four schools — my soul has passed through seven —
leave me, make me not speak: let me awaken on these roads.

The seven Hells they speak of could not bear a single sigh of mine —
the eight Paradises could not hold me: why should I linger here?

If eight Paradises are offered, if seventy thousand Houris come —
they cannot deceive this soul of mine: how should I be deceived here?

On the tongue your tidings are spoken, yet your trace is never found —
lift the veil from your face, let me burn at your countenance.

Those who study science and philosophy are poor in love —
I have become Mansur: hang me, that I may be spoken of on every tongue.

Yunus did not say these words — the Friend's voice filled my soul —
the eye of the hypocrite is blind: how then should I show them?

Poem 269

O God, give me a love that I may not know my selfhood —
let me lose myself and, seeking, never find.

Make me so bewildered that I know not night from day —
let me seek you always, and remain in no other pattern.

Take and remove selfhood from me; fill my depths with You-ness —
kill me while I am here, so that going there I do not die.

If I speak, it will not come to the tongue; some curse me, some laugh —
at least let me burn with grief, so my condition finds no tongue.

Here I walk, burning, burning — my liver drowned in blood —
love struck an arrow into my soul: how should I not lament?

Let me burn, let me smoulder, let me ripen in the Friend's garden —
let me be a rose, let me blossom, and opening, never wilt.

Hang me on the gallows like Mansur — show yourself to me so plainly —
let me sacrifice this soul, so I never deny love.

Love is the remedy for this pain; I gave my soul to love's road —
Poor Yunus says, 'O Rich One, let me not remain without love for a single breath.'

Poem 270

You've overflowed again, mad heart — do you roar like waters?
You've flowed again, my bloody tears — do you block my roads?

What shall I do? My hand cannot reach the Friend, no cure is found for my pain —
I have become a wanderer from my homeland: will you hold me here?

I have lost my travelling companion; the wound in my breast will not heal —
the bloody tears of my eyes: do you become a river and roar?

I became dust on your road, yet you look beyond me —
you who bare your breast before me: are you stone-hearted mountains?

Like a brigand across my road descends the snowy mountain —
I have fallen apart from my beloved: do you block my road?

O clouds that hang in clusters upon the snowy mountains' peak —
have you unbound your hair and, for my sake, do you weep tear by tear?

Yunus's soul is intoxicated; I am on the road — where is my homeland?
Yunus saw you in a dream: are you sick, or are you well?

Poem 271

I have found the soul of souls — let this soul of mine be plundered.
I have passed beyond profit and loss — let my shop be plundered.

I have passed beyond my selfhood, I have opened my eye's veil —
I have reached the Friend's union: let my doubt be plundered.

Selfhood has gone from me; the Friend seized all my kingdom —
I have become of the tribe of No-Place: let my place be plundered.

I grew weary of duality; I donned love's garment —
I was sated at grief's table: let my remedy be plundered.

When existence departed, then the Friend came to us —
the ruined heart was filled with light: let my world be plundered.

I passed beyond endless longing; I grew weary of summer and winter —
I found the lord of all gardens: let my garden be plundered.

I severed all attachments; I flew toward that Friend —
I fell into love's court: let my court be plundered.

Yunus, how well you have spoken, you have tasted honey and sugar —
I have found the honey of honeys: let my hive be plundered.

Poem 272

Remembering the Day of Judgement —
let us weep for that Day.
That Day is the day of blame —
let us weep for that Day.

On that Day the earth shall split,
all the dead shall rise,
every sin shall be questioned —
let us weep for that Day.

On that Day the sky shall crack —
how shall mankind endure?
Who on that Day shall not fear?
Let us weep for that Day.

Ah, the terrors of that Day —
they shall age the innocent.
What shall become of the guilty?
Let us weep for that Day.

On that Day there shall be fierce wailing,
man and woman shall be naked,
every liver shall be roasted —
let us weep for that Day.

O Yunus Emre, set upon the path —
what use is the brother who knows not the state?
Perhaps the remedy comes from God alone —
let us weep for that Day.

Poem 273

The Glorious One awakens us though we have long been sleeping;
souls seek the body though they had abandoned it and gone.

See the Creator's grace, His ocean without end —
He shows us His face though we have sinned so much.

God's grace is great — it reaches His servants always.
God preserved Abraham when Nimrod cast him in the fire.

Whomever His grace reaches, that servant becomes a sultan.
Have you not heard of Joseph, when the merchants sold him?

If you come to the path through love, if you become like Jonah — what then?
He did not abandon his devotion though the whale had swallowed him.

Be faithful to your covenant, make your heart pure —
where is Muhammad Mustafa, who made the Mi'raj to the Throne?

Where are the prophets and saints? They all came and passed —
where are David and Solomon, though they held from Qaf to Qaf?

However great your wealth, death extends its hand to you.
What good did Korah's riches do, sunk as he was in this world?

Lend me your ear — I have news to tell you:
He cursed Azazil, who had held his place at the Throne.

When affliction comes from the Friend, have patience like Job —
how his body found its health, though he had borne such suffering.

Remembering that Day, does Yunus's soul not tremble —
having reached the final station with Faith and Quran as companions?

Poem 274

O friends! O brothers! What shall I do? What shall I do?
If He says "You are not my servant" — what shall I do?

My head shall be wretched and beaten, there my tears shall never cease —
on the Day of Assembly, if my inner and outer become fire — what shall I do?

When I remember my sins, my soul burns, my eyes fill with blood-tears —
tomorrow at God's court, if my face turns dark — what shall I do?

My inside is full of corruption — O master, forgive my sin!
If Hell becomes my dwelling — what shall I do?

I remained amid corruption — Yunus says: my sorrow has grown.
When I reach the grave, if my tomb is narrow — what shall I do?

Poem 275

I have no works, no devotion —
what shall I do? What shall I make?
When the Day of Judgement rises —
what shall I do? What shall I make?

When the Friend questions me,
when my mind leaves my head,
when the anguish of shame drowns me —
what shall I do? What shall I make?

For the lawful there will be reckoning,
for the forbidden there will be torment.
With my rebellion my face is blackened —
what shall I do? What shall I make?

Seventy thousand executioners lead
Hell toward the Day of Assembly,
terrifying the guilty —
what shall I do? What shall I make?

When Hell shakes itself once,
it shall pour its fury on sinners —
O Lord, when that Day arrives,
what shall I do? What shall I make?

The lovers shall reach their goal,
the gnostics shall see the Friend's face —
the guilty one, face so black:
what shall I do? What shall I make?

My Yunus Emre, your sorrow is fierce —
not a single act of worship goes toward good.
Without God's grace,
what shall I do? What shall I make?

Poem 276

O bird of my life, where will you go one day?
Death hunts and swallows — you will fall into its hand one day.

It will come and perch upon your breast; your soul will catch fire.
It will offer you a cup of sherbet — you will drink and be sated one day.

Those who come to visit, those who ask after you,
beloved friends — you will cease to see them one day.

Your friends will come and hasten you along;
they will strip your garments — you will be naked one day.

Mounted on the wooden horse, deceived, denying Khidr —
under the black earth you will enter and lie one day.

Serve and tend the body, prepare this soul —
you will be given over to snakes and scorpions one day.

Munkar and Nakir will come; your situation will be dire —
they will question you at length — you will answer one day.

My Yunus Emre, what will you do? Where will you flee?
You will cease to come to the saints' gathering one day.

Poem 277

I wonder: is there in this place
one as strange as I —
liver wounded, eyes full of tears,
as strange as I?

I wandered Anatolia and Damascus,
all the highland lands —
much I sought, but could not find
one as strange as I.

Let no one be a stranger,
let none burn in the fire of longing —
my master, let no one be
as strange as I.

My tongue speaks, my eyes weep,
my soul grieves for the strangers —
perhaps my star is in the sky,
as strange as I.

How long shall I burn with this sorrow?
Death will come — one day I shall die.
Perhaps in my grave I shall find
one as strange as I.

"A stranger has died," they will say —
three days later they will hear of it.
They will wash him with cold water,
as strange as I.

O my Emre, Yunus the helpless —
no remedy can be found for your sorrow.
Go now, wander from city to city,
as strange as I.

Poem 278

Where shall I find you, searching — O heart, where are you?
Wherever there is a ruin, by God, heart — there you are.

O heart, since I followed you, no honor is left to my face.
May mercy come to you — wherever you are, you are in madness.

One moment you are clear, the next you walk in ruin —
known to all the worlds by name — captive of pain, helpless.

One moment a worshipper, one moment an ascetic, one moment a sinner, one moment obedient —
a moment comes, O heart, when you are in neither faith nor belief.

When love overflows my head, crashing in waves and flooding —
a moment comes, O heart, when you are in the mosque with the Quran.

Kayseri, Tabriz and Sivas, Nakhchivan and Maraş, Shiraz —
heart, Baghdad is near to you: in all the worlds, you are in madness.

Yunus, now worship is your portion — do not shed your tears.
Whether today or tomorrow, you are a sacrifice for God's sake.

Poem 279

If you love love, you shall become soul —
you shall become sultan on the throne of hearts.

If you love the world, you shall find hardship.
How long will you pine for the old?

The world is an old palace and you are its lord.
How long will you pine for the old?

The world's desire is poison, not honey.
How long will you dip your finger in poison?

You have remained in the wilds like a wingless bird.
How will you reach the birds that have wings?

Be a rose, not a thorn, on the saints' path.
If you are a thorn, you shall burn in fire.

God commanded prayer for the sake of supplication.
Woe to you if you are heedless of supplication.

You need a staff from the saints on this road.
If you lean on the staff, you shall be supported.

Bridle your lower self — be a staff yourself.
If you follow your ego, you are annihilation.

The head of all worship is abandoning the world.
If you are a believer, believe in this.

If you have lost your father's right,
you shall wear green garments and be adorned.

If your neighbor's right is upon your neck,
you shall remain in Hell forever.

Yunus received these words from the saint.
If you need them too, then take them.

They call the one who enters the heart "content."
Enter the heart yourself, that you may be content.

Poem 280

O Friend, since I loved You my mind left me — I remained.
I abandoned the wells and plunged into the oceans.

A single atom of Your love's fire boils the oceans.
I fell into Your love's fire, caught flame — I burned.

In the soul where love dwells, sorrow cannot remain.
Since this love came to me, my sorrow left — I laughed.

The nightingale too has fallen in love with the red rose's face.
I saw the saints' faces and became a thousand tales.

You gave me this love — what shall I do with myself?
My inner and outer filled with light: I became a lover of the Friend.

Unless you break your whole ego, all your worship is in vain.
The remedy for breaking it — at last I have found.

To bear the world's hardship — its end is faithfulness, it seems.
By bearing the hardship, I have purchased You.

I was a dry tree, fallen by the roadside.
One glanced at me — I became fresh and young.

Yunus, if you are a lover, call yourself "poor."
Among all choices, the best I found in poverty.

Poem 281

Then you shall become one; from separation you shall be free.
Come to this door without soul — you shall find everlasting life.

If you come holding your soul, saying "I have a soul,"
if you count your soul, you shall be all sorrow.

Here there is no sorrow to count, nor does anyone remain here.
Since the journey has fallen thus, you must be on the road.

Unless you come with pain, you shall not reach the remedy.
If you sacrifice one soul on the road, you shall find a hundred thousand souls.

Do not remain in passing thought — seek the eternal treasure.
In a hundred thousand worlds you shall find the hidden treasure.

When you taste love's flavor, you shall pass beyond outward religion.
From the fire of separation, then you shall be free.

Go swiftly on this road through every kind of station.
In every tongue that is spoken, you must be forgotten.

O Yunus, where is your mind? Your tongue speaks without cease.
This road has no end — where will you wander?

Poem 282

O God, the remedy of my pain is You.
The forgiveness of Your sinful servants is You.

By Your command the heavens turn.
The revolution of moon and sun is You.

Abraham's friendship, Jacob's sigh,
Joseph's prison and his chains — You are.

Moses' prayer upon Mount Sinai,
Jesus' sojourn in the heavens — You are.

The light of my eyes, the life of my body,
the sultan on the throne of hearts — You are.

My Yunus Emre reads his lesson from You.
The book in his hand, his record — You are.

Poem 283

O comfort of my heart, tell me: what shall I do?
Love has made me a wanderer — to whom shall I tell my sorrow?

Let me cross the realm of the perishable, let me fly to the Friend's country.
Let me plunge into love's ocean and set the seas to boiling.

Love has set my soul on fire — let the lovers come to me.
Let me spread the feast of love and satisfy the lovers.

Since I have entered love's garden, I look to my left and my right.
Let me eat the varied fruits and gather the roses.

Day and night let me cry and wail, let me be a lover of land and city.
Let me pour my blood-tears and make my lamentations.

Let me love that rose until the world is filled with uproar.
Let me become a thousand tales and summer in the Friend's garden.

Poor Yunus, you have not lived the lovers' life.
At least with all my strength, let me sing their songs.

Poem 284

Do not part me from You, O Creator —
I fall and die from this wound.

Should I grieve because I die?
The Creator shall take my soul back again.

Let them say "he is dead," let them mourn —
I shall become a bird and fly from among them.

I say to these eyes of mine: "Do not weep" —
they pour blood-tears from white and black alike.

What place have I left where I did not make a lake?
I sent floods down every valley.

I was a servant, You were the Sultan —
I fell between, I know not from where.

Let me go and be a servant at the sheikh's threshold;
let me sew a cloak from a hundred thousand pieces.

My lord Yunus's desire is this:
to reach his Beloved and depart from the midst.

Poem 285

O friends, O brothers — I fear that I shall die,
not grieving that I die, but that I shall find what I have done.

One day my faults will appear before my eyes, my shame will be flung in my face;
I have gone mad from dread, saying: "What shall I do? What shall I become?"

If I were truly His servant, I should have served Him;
I should have wept in this world so that I might smile in the next.

I only came to this world to serve my ego;
I did no good deed that I might be saved from torment.

O helpless, poor Yunus — your sins are many; what will you do?
I took refuge in my God. He said: "I shall forgive."

Poem 286

The Friend has plundered my heart — whatever must come, let it come from now on.
He cast His sorrow into my soul — let it burn from now on.

My soul burns with His sorrow; life passes, the wheel turns.
Day by day your colour fades — let it fade from now on.

What strange adventure has sprouted in our breast!
From my eyes let tears of blood flow from now on.

The saints are God's secret, the light of God is on their brow.
Whoever loves them must weep and wail from now on.

You are the Master, I am a servant — I remain in eternal servitude.
Let all the world know this word of mine from now on.

Departing the palace of annihilation, crossing to the palace of permanence,
drinking the wine of love — let it drench me from now on.

See what Yunus has done: he went to the Divine Presence.
He is a drop that reached the ocean — let it overflow from now on.

Poem 287

I have become like Mansur today — let whoever hangs me come forward.
I have proclaimed "Verily I am God" — let whoever denies it come forward.

"Say: All is from God" — I am not without Him, by God.
I have become Truth with the Truth — let whoever is a stranger come forward.

I read the order of unity written on the Tablet and the Pen.
Whoever speaks of the inner science and the wayfaring — let them come forward.

There is one God's Prophet — from him I received the news.
Let whoever confesses one God and one Prophet come forward.

"Whoever knows himself knows his Lord" —
I knew this, I found Him — let whoever denies it come forward.

The deniers and hypocrites say: "Let us kill him."
The One who created me shall kill me — let whoever makes the nonexistent existent come forward.

Let the one who kills me and scatters my ashes to the sky come forward.
I am the Hidden Treasure — let whoever makes manifest come forward.

I am the warrior, I am the martyr, I am the one who dies and slays.
Day and night, let whoever trades with that Friend come forward.

All the world is His forgiveness; the whole universe is bewildered by Him.
Yunus is bewildered by Him — let whoever repeats it come forward.

Poem 288

O let whoever became a companion with us and went to the Friend come forward.
Let whoever annihilated himself and abandoned the soul come forward.

Let us abandon dispute and seek the straight road.
Let us find the mine of the jewel — whoever took the essence, come forward.

This soul's purpose is the jewel; the soul's purpose is Mansur.
For the sake of that purpose, let whoever was hung on the gallows like Mansur come forward.

If you wish to reach the goal, render much service in every matter.
Grow weary of your selfhood — let whoever became the light of the Face come forward.

Those who hide themselves — they see the Face of God.
If you wish to see the Face of God, let whoever confesses come forward.

Yunus, come, tell your state; reveal what your condition is.
He cast your soul into suffering — let whoever brings the remedy come forward.

Poem 289

It is I who wail before that Beloved,
who gives my soul from the heart before that heart-ravisher.

Through the nights until dawn I am bewildered and drunk,
waiting in expectation before the Face.

Rising at dawn, I wail —
as if I were a nightingale before the rose-garden.

Since divine love took my soul,
I am like Majnun, a wanderer before Him.

Like a moth before the candle of Your beauty,
I burn my wings and feathers before the fire.

Since I drank the wine of His love,
wounds reach my heart before Him.

Today I am Mansur on the road of love:
I walk and I spin before that gallows.

I am a helpless nightingale in the Friend's garden —
let me go and bring word before that Beloved.

Lover Yunus remains in exile today,
for love makes him speak before the heart-ravisher.

Poem 290

I love You deeper than the soul.
My road does not pass beyond this station.

Wherever I go, my heart is full of You.
Where shall I place You — deeper than this?

Do not ask me about myself: I am not in myself.
My form wanders empty within this robe.

My hand cannot reach the One who took me from myself.
Whose foot can step deeper than the Sultan?

From the Theophany some received their share;
some have their purpose deeper even than this.

Whomever the Friend's gaze has touched —
his radiance is deeper than the sun.

Your love has taken me within myself.
What sweet sorrow this is, deeper than any cure.

Sharia and Tarikat are the road for those who travel;
Hakikat and Ma'rifat are deeper still.

They said Solomon knows the language of birds —
there is a Solomon deeper than Solomon.

For the man of love who walks the mystic path,
there are many creeds deeper than religion.

The work of one who abandons religion is infidelity —
but what infidelity is this, deeper than faith!

That Beloved stands: there is no sign of Him.
Can there be a sign deeper than a sign?

Perhaps Yunus's eye encountered the Friend
and remained at the gate, deeper than beyond.

Poem 291

The love of homeland has seized my heart — let me go, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"
Whoever goes there remains at once — let me stay, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

When Azrael comes and seizes me — neither father nor mother avails.
Let me mount the wooden horse and ride away, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

In retreats let me be occupied, always blossoming, becoming a rose.
In the Friend's garden let me be a nightingale, singing: "O Friend, O Friend!"

When they wrap five or ten yards of cloth as a shroud upon my shoulders,
let me sew those worldly garments, let me wear them, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

Let me become Majnun and wander; let me cover the high mountains.
Let me become wax and melt; let me burn, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

Days pass, years turn, my tombstone crumbles above me.
The flesh rots, becomes earth — let me be dust, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

Yunus Emre, go on His road; the deniers do not enter His road.
Becoming a diver, let me plunge into the Friend's lake, saying: "O Friend, O Friend!"

Poem 292

We drank the sherbet that came from God — praise be to God.
We crossed that sea of Divine Power — praise be to God.

Those mountains across the way, the forests, the gardens —
in health and joy we climbed them — praise be to God.

We were dry and became moist; we were the foot and became the head.
We grew wings and became birds — we flew — praise be to God.

To the lands we reached, to those hearts of joy,
we scattered Father Tapduk's meaning — praise be to God.

Come close, let us make peace; if you are a stranger, let us know each other.
Our horse is saddled, we have heard — praise be to God.

We descended into Rum and wintered there; we did much good and ill.
Now spring has come and we have moved on again — praise be to God.

We revived and became a spring; we swelled and became a river.
We flowed into the sea, filled it, and overflowed — praise be to God.

At Tapduk's service we became servants, at his gate.
Poor Yunus: we were raw and we were cooked — praise be to God.

Poem 293

Beware: do not harbour ill thoughts in the house of the heart.
Whoever digs a well for another will in the end fall in himself.

What your ego does not approve, do not impute to others.
If you impute it to others, know that your own affairs will go astray.

The one who attributes to another what is unfit for himself —
his name is Muslim, but he himself resembles a monk.

Do not snatch and take away what you did not place.
Taking what you did not place will bring low a precious work.

Three kinds of people in this world shall not see the Face of God:
the backbiter, the slanderer, and the tale-bearer among the people.

Yunus, whoever heeds this counsel shall not go unrewarded.
These are a few words of advice, if you would hear them from start to finish.

Poem 294

It is well if I walk burning and burning in the fire of love.
How could I not burn, since love's fire has fallen upon the soul?

My soul is love's furnace — cast the fuel in without restraint.
Cane-juice becomes sugar when fire is set beneath the furnace.

Everything that is raw cannot be cooked without fire.
My life was raw — love's fire became the pretext.

When these matters are complete, there is seclusion with the Beloved.
Whoever sees the Beloved's face must burn and be consumed.

It is fortune for the one who burns in love's fire.
When the bitter smoke departs, this house shall be bright.

Our trade with that Friend is not from some particular time.
We loved the Beloved before we had even come to the world.

I am content with that fire even if I burn a thousand times a day.
See how the moth sacrifices its soul before the candle.

However much I burn in love, it grows ever sweeter to me.
Let my soul be sacrificed for the One who cast me into this fire of love.

The sultan of love is Tapduk; Yunus is a beggar at this gate.
To show grace to beggars is the custom of the sultan.

Poem 295

The body is a building within the secret of wisdom;
the heart is a foundation — the treasure is within that foundation.

The heart is the sovereign and judge of the soul; all work is sacrificed to it.
The tongue too is an interpreter, moving within Divine Power.

The heart sits upon the throne, ruling from Mount Qaf to Mount Qaf.
The ego stands afar, its desire in pleasure.

The ego that follows the soul — think not it perceives meaning.
Whoever does not follow it at every moment, know: he is within grace.

The first gate is Sharia; passing beyond it is Tarikat.
The house of the heart is Ma'rifat; love is Hakikat within.

Sharia is sweet: it pleases whoever hears it.
Whatever one wishes, one may do within that Sharia.

Tarikat is the soul's companion; its work is done with the soul.
The one who enters the Path is day and night within contemplation.

Ma'rifat is of the heart, with day and night's lamentation.
If I were to speak, words would not come — within the secret of the Attributes.

Hakikat is love made manifest; let them see the likeness plain.
Whoever wears the robe of Hakikat is within a weighty garment of honour.

Sharia is the house of form; the strong enter it for worship.
Its fame has gone out to the world, within servitude.

Tarikat comes to the soul and makes the soul its servant.
Whoever does not enter it suffers loss within this fortune.

Those who reach Hakikat, those who find Hakikat —
how blessed are their souls, all within love.

Whoever knows Sharia and both reads and practices it —
he must be a true man, day and night within worship.

If he does not worship, if he does not go to the master,
if he does not follow the Sharia, his name is within the curse.

Sharia says to him: that name is vain to him;
his station is fire within the Hereafter.

Whoever enters the Path must abandon possessions
and give the soul truly to the Way within this Tarikat.

If he does not stand true, if he does not abandon possessions,
if he does not give the soul to the Way, he shall not taste the fellowship within.

Tarikat is not for him: he has made the road wearisome.
God does not accept him; he shall not find mercy within.

If he has no depth, if he does not plunge into the sea,
if he does not know the contemplative journey, there is no worth within.

Ma'rifat is the city of the heart; its station finds poverty.
Depth is needed — depth — within this Ma'rifat.

Ma'rifat is far from him; it is not his halting-place.
Even if his work is strong, his is not this name within.

Whoever drives Hakikat forward and sees wrath and grace as one,
opening the work, standing true within this Hakikat —

if he does not stand true, if he does not reach the Way,
if he does not welcome wrath, his name is a nameless name within.

Hakikat is not for him: that fortune, that counsel.
From first to last, the end is found within checkmate.

These are the four stations. Be ashamed, you who hold the station of the inner science.
He is the one who reaches the destination, within complete fulfilment.

The one who reaches that station has four signs.
The one who manifests those signs — his place is within mercy.

His form is orderly among the people; he follows God's way.
He ascends and contemplates within the heavens.

Trust in God is his work, contentment his nourishment.
Grace is his crown, within the light of mercy.

There is no power left for dispute: that is a state beyond words.
There is never any death for him, within pre-eternity and post-eternity.

All these voices are the work; the words I speak are meaning.
Tapduk watches for Yunus within this sainthood.

Poem 296

I fell in love by reaching the saint —
I found the Truth by seeing the saint.

I reached the saint and found my aim in him;
I could not find it by asking from outside.

Wherever I looked, the saint sits there —
I won his heart by pressing my face to the ground.

All portions come to souls from God alone;
they cannot be gained by going to the Ka'ba.

Know that the Ka'ba is your threshold —
I could not find it by straining on the road.

Those who saw me would not count me worth a coin;
now those who see me point with their fingers.

I was a lake — the saints cast their gaze upon me
and I became a sea, with rivers flowing to all sides.

A voice came saying "Yunus" — I stood upright,
opened my eyes by striking my ears awake.

Poem 297

How should the heart rest without finding the Beloved?
Can anyone be a lover without being left heartless?

It is the heart that loves Him and enslaves you —
whom will you set free while you yourself are not free?

We came with chains on our necks, became hard-bound captives;
the saint did not cast his gaze until he knew our state.

They search from one side, thinking it something else —
how will you know its price without buying it?

Its price is my soul — it is not bought with goods or cattle;
can the beloved be grasped without the beloveds giving?

O soul, how can you call yourself a lover if you will not pass beyond this bond?
What will you take from the sea without crossing the river?

Where will you find the Friend by staying as you are?
He does not build you up until you are destroyed.

Hear these words from Yunus — do not be proud, take the counsel:
you will not be rebuilt until you are laid waste.

Poem 298

Let me describe the state of union to those who know it:
seven signs are needed for those who reach the Truth.

If one of these seven is lacking, it cannot be —
not one may be absent for those who walk this steep road.

The first sign is this: to renounce all nations —
those who renounce stand in their place; the world did not touch those who renounced.

The second sign is this: never to fatten the ego —
God forbid you be among those who are slaves to their egos.

The third sign is this: to pass beyond all desires —
desires leave the seeker stranded; they cannot reach those who walk the road.

The fourth sign is this: to be purified from the world —
the world makes you sick — what servant belongs to the sick?

Yunus spoke of seven signs, yes, and hid three of them —
those too I shall tell to whoever comes and asks in private.

Poem 299

Through humility they found it — whoever had sainthood in them;
they vanished by the stairway, if one looks from the heights.

The heart roams the heights, straying from the path moment by moment;
whatever is within seeps through onto the face of the stone.

The white-bearded elder does not know what state he is in —
let him not trouble himself with pilgrimage if he breaks a single heart.

The deaf cannot hear the word; he thinks the day is night —
the denier's eye is blind even when the world is luminous.

The heart is Çalap's throne — upon the heart Çalap gazes;
accursed in both worlds is whoever breaks a heart.

Whatever you think of yourself, think the same of others —
that is the meaning of all four Books, if meaning there be.

We know: those who came have passed, those who camped have departed;
whoever grasps the meaning has drunk from love's wine.

May Yunus not stray from the road, may he not stand on high ground,
may he not see the grave or the Bridge — if what he loves is the Face.

Poem 300

Let me say a word to you — listen, if you have a soul:
never be greedy, if your mind will serve you.

Do no evil, lest you hear the curse;
let your goodness be spoken of after you are gone.

What ill fruit grew from evil? What good deed ever perished?
Goodness befits the Truth — if you hold the confession.

Confession is the saint's companion — whoever has it, his place is Paradise;
the miser will not see Paradise though he have a hundred thousand eyes.

In meaning they have said: a friend is better than a brother,
sweeter even than a son, if the friend is true.

If your friend faces you, prostrate at his service —
tear out your liver and feed it to him, if you have the means.

You see your friend is crooked? Whatever you have, give it and let go —
it is a proverb from the elders, if you have heard it.

To eat bread and deny the salt — that is the work of the base;
bread will not abandon you, if the salt receives its due.

Too many words are a beast's burden; few words are the saint's ornament —
for the one who knows, a single word suffices, if the jewel is in the soul.

Poor Yunus is a madman — it is plain from his words;
do not blame him, friends, if he has his shortcomings.

Poem 301

O you with the kopuz at the feast — what is your origin, what is your work?
I put a question to you: answer me at once.

It says: "My origin is wood, my strings are a few sheep-guts —
come, hear my music and pass on; do not leave your mind in confusion."

"They say I am forbidden — but I am no thievery;
since my origin is the saw, what sin is there in a string?"

"They called me 'string' — they said 'enter love';
Love gave me my name — I do not stay idle in the corner."

"I came with joy and filled this world;
I was strung for the feasts — they placed me in this gathering."

"Wood and skin came alive, became one with the string;
it plunged into love's sea — there is no excuse in this work."

In Mevlānā's gathering, music and fellowship arose;
the mystic plunged into meaning, for the angel is the whetstone.

From mentioning the angel, know what is meant:
night and day it sharpens, with you in every deed.

Those angels' name is the Noble Scribes —
they never tire of writing, they rest not in summer or winter.

One sits on your right shoulder, one on your left:
one writes your good deeds, the other records your evil in motion.

Their papers do not run out, nor does their ink;
their pens do not wear down — they are diligent in that work.

He goes to the tavern, he enters the idol-house —
these angels guard you, yet you are heedless of this work.

Now, Yunus, praise the Glorious One within your heart —
not separate from the mystic is this kopuz at the feast.

Poem 302

I found what I sought, openly within the soul;
the one seeking outside is himself hidden within.

He is constant, never departs — without Him no one comes alive;
step by step He measures the ground, within your own soul.

He who set this seal, who speaks in every tongue,
who does not fit in earth or heaven — He has entered within this soul.

He has become the thief — He robs Himself;
He Himself is the scene, within His own prison.

He cries "Seize him!" and the thief also cries —
what a wondrous thief, within this very one who calls.

In the field of execution, He is the one watching from the crowd;
the execution is Himself — He has entered the arena.

He has taken the sword of Power and struck the ego's neck;
He has trampled His ego underfoot, His hands in blood.

He falls sick and groans, listening to the Quran's voice;
the one reading the Quran is Himself — He Himself is within the Quran.

He builds throne upon throne, adorning Himself there;
see how He roams — within a patched cloak.

He who builds manifold mansions, pavilions, and palaces
has veiled Himself in black and entered the furnace-house.

From head to foot, the Truth's light has seized you —
what exists apart from the Truth? Do not remain in doubt.

You are one — look to oneness, release duality from your hands;
you will find the whole meaning within sincerity and faith.

Do not rely on your fasting, do not lean on your prayer;
all devotion becomes a crown within supplication and grace.

Fasting, prayer, ablution, pilgrimage — these are veils for lovers;
the lover is purified beyond them, among the elite of the elite.

I entered the city of the heart, I plunged into its sea;
wandering with love, I found the trace within the soul.

I traced that trace, I gazed right and left;
I saw many wonders that do not exist anywhere in the world.

He sits as King, making servants obey His command;
He issues His decree within the decree of denial.

Yunus, your words are meaning to those who know —
they will speak your words throughout the turning of time.

Poem 303

Be soul within soul — do not remain in doubt;
you will find what you seek in a time close at hand.

Do not remain in bowing and prostration, do not lean on your deeds;
knowledge and deeds drown within supplication and grace.

Abandon duality, take hold of the station of oneness;
you will find the Soul of souls within this very life.

Fasting, prayer, alms, pilgrimage — these are crime and offense;
the poor one is free from these, among the elite of the elite.

The Sharia is the guardian within the army of Truth —
it is guarded for your sake within the camp.

You will find the Soul of souls, you too will become soul;
with love, your contemplation will be within the Face.

He has seen with the eye of certainty — Yunus has become Majnun;
one with the One he has become, within the truth of certainty.

Poem 304

Those who are dervishes — wonder how they shall live?
The road's requirement is this: to be one with each one.

To make no duality, to speak no lie;
if the world grows turbid, to stand unmuddied.

Wonder: who can stand unmuddied thus?
If you desire such a state, become a companion to the saint.

Whoever walks with the saint is greatly blessed in heart;
the world would walk with them — if it could be done with the tongue alone.

Nothing comes from the tongue alone; the heart is not washed with water;
those who come in truth are led by a single hair.

Night and day they pull, that that hair might break;
he who has fastened his life to it is led by a single hair.

Do not think that hair is thin; do not think this path idle —
the saints passed and came, each one in their own state.

Whoever's state became a true state — that one became lord and commanded;
Yunus, be you a servant: the lord converses with his servant.

Poem 305

The people of eighteen thousand worlds are all within the One;
there is no one beyond the One — it is spoken within every tongue.

All unify that One, all go toward that One;
every tongue speaks of that One at every station along the way.

Every eye watches for that One — yet no one can give a sign;
who has seen? Who has not? We are left in bewilderment.

Who can see that One openly? Who can speak of Its form?
Its word is "You shall not see Me" — spoken to Moses within Sinai.

Do not see It apart from anyone — see It together with each one;
the whole world is full of It, within land and sea.

He who passed beyond the Lote-Tree of the Uttermost Boundary
could give no sign of it, within the station of light.

Ninety thousand of Its words: thirty thousand common and elect;
within the thirty thousand elect, thirty thousand secrets.

That is the hidden word the mystic speaks day and night;
let him give no sign of it, within the houris and palaces.

Yunus, if you desire it, if you say "let me see the Friend" —
It is manifest to those who see: there, within the heart.

Poem 306

When Israfil blows the trumpet, the face of the earth will be gathered up;
land and sea will be destroyed, the wheel of heaven unraveled.

No one will remain here — all will go there;
before that King, the Truth's scale will be set up.

All deeds will be made plain — neither stranger nor friend will be spared;
"Come, so-and-so son of so-and-so" — each servant will be called.

All creation will stand, filling the face of the earth;
the King will pass judgment, driven on until the Day of Gathering.

The terror of Judgment will arise with the second blast;
within the third blast, the face of the earth will split open.

A thousand ranks will form — but for the lover, no fear, no shame;
tomorrow on the Day of Gathering, when "the Day He blows" is sounded.

Yunus, make your preparation — know well, the road is fearful:
a thundering sea of tar, and the Bridge stretched thinner than a hair.

Poem 307

No one can withstand this gaze — whoever grapples with love:
whoever stands against this gaze will drown his entire household.

When one puts a hand to love, who can stand against love's arrow?
The angels in heaven — love brought them down to earth.

See what Harut and Marut were: angels in the Presence —
love seized their portion and gave their station to Venus.

Our ablution is our prayer, our worship is sincerity;
we have risen to love's rank �� who can break our line?

That there are mosques and schools, that pure congregations form,
that creation stands in rows — all of this is love's offering.

Love's fire burns within me, its harvest is in my heart;
from the smoke of love's fire, Yunus's face grows pale.

Poem 308

Where would lovers go, leaving the Friend behind?
A palace without the Friend is a prison to lovers.

The lover does not lift his eyes from the Friend's face;
that is why his soul wanders, restless day and night.

The Beloved shows a hundred and one different paths;
how then should the lover stand at a single resting-place?

The Beloved's limit has no end;
that is why the lover cannot be contained by sign or gesture.

What fortune! What happiness! What love! —
that here, with the Friend, one may accomplish the work.

Whoever has not come to know the Friend here,
woe is his life — he is left destitute.

Take hold of the Friend's name here, Yunus:
if you save it for tomorrow, your affair reaches God.

Poem 309

Go with your pain, walk burning, until you reach the remedy;
serve with love until you reach the Sultan.

Flow like waters, never settling in one place;
run low into the valleys until you reach the ocean.

Be utterly despised and abased — you shall become Abraham at last,
and like Ishmael, arrive at the sacrifice.

Be patient like Job, weep long like Jacob,
and you too, in Joseph's likeness, until you reach Canaan.

Yunus, do not waste this jewel on the unworthy:
what did you suffer on this road before you reached that mine?

Poem 310

I am without place in this world — my station, my dwelling is there.
I am Sultan: my crown and throne, my robes and Buraq are there.

I am Job — I found this patience. I am Cercis — I died a thousand times.
I came alone to this realm; all my provisions are there.

I am Joseph — I came to the market. I am Mansur — I came to this gallows.
I am the lion — I came to hunt; yet my resting-place is there.

I am the nightingale — I came singing. On my tongue I came bearing a decree.
I came here to sell my musk; I am the deer — my pasture is there.

Who knows what bird I am? I blaze toward that moon-face.
From eternity I am drunk — I drank my cup: it is there.

I am mad — I heed no counsel. I do not go to just any place.
I do not listen to such words: I have stopped my ears — they are there.

The secret word is not made plain; there a fire burns, unseen;
day and night it burns and does not die — this lamp of mine is there.

I taught this realm, and seven times I circled round;
I saw Muhammad's light — this dwelling of mine is there.

Yunus sank into this thought and cast the whole world behind;
by God, he took a sweet taste — I have savoured it: my palate is there.

Poem 311

Again the gaze has fallen upon our souls:
Muhammad laid the foundation of our religion and our faith.

Chief of the prophets, pillar of the religion — Muhammad:
see what jewels he placed within our mine.

Come, let us do good deeds while our hands still reach —
death arrives without warning and does not reach our count.

Alas, what shall we do if there are no good deeds in us?
In wrath they will seize us by these shroud-garments.

The questioners will come, the questioning will question the account;
in the darkness of the grave, they will sit beside us.

Death is God's truth — you know it; why then are you heedless?
Azrael takes aim at our sinful flesh.

Lowly Yunus does not speak these words from himself:
it is God — it is Chalap who gave the dye to our tongue.

Poem 312

Again the spring wind has blown with a lovely new manner — again.
Again winter's cold has cut short its meddling — again.

Again, mercy beyond measure; again, the feast is in tune with the hour;
again this new spring has come, treading with blessed steps — again.

Again the world has dressed in new robes from the new treasury;
again new life was given — herb and tree have called out — again.

Herb and tree had died; reviving, they grow once more:
proof enough for the idolaters — He has restored their lineage again.

Again, across plain and meadow, these waters flow, drunk and sweet;
He has scattered largesse upon the worlds — all creation is the Friend's again.

Again the face of the earth adorns itself, layer on layer, sinking into colour;
the nightingale sings to the rose, the soul hangs upon the branch — again.

My word is not for summer and winter: the Beloved came for the work;
the King's design is new bestowing — again.

Again Yunus has lost his head, pulled down honour and shame,
and from the lovers' draught has drunk the great cup — again.

Poem 313

The likeness of this world resembles a mill:
heedlessness is its hopper, and these people are the grain that is ground.

You go to the mill, you ask for the miller —
they say it is Azrael: he is the one who grinds the flour.

The millrace is God's being; the saints are the axle of the wheel.
He made wheel resemble wheel — praise be to the One who made the likeness!

And then the wheel's place, and the clapper's ropes —
your anxiety is entangled, scattered with care.

The clapper clacks day and night; He grinds and pounds it:
that day is the Day, this day the day that passed — a lifetime wasted.

This earth is like the lower millstone: it stands firm and does not move.
This sky is like the upper millstone: it must turn at every moment.

Some have stood their turn, grinding day and night;
some feel nothing — they are blown about like rakes.

Covered in dust they lie — old men who have reached seventy;
when the turn comes, it kneads both the aged and the young.

That mill's strength — it carries all the force;
this world's final end shall be annihilation upon annihilation.

That hopper's little trough — its end is the deathbed;
when the grain is done, the flour must be spent.

The flour-bin is your grave — beware its harsh torment;
Mustafa said it so: if you believe the Quran.

How long will you go on reciting these parables?
Yunus, strive for the remedy of your pain.

Poem 314

Hold fast to one of God's chosen ones:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.
Let them wipe the rust from your heart:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Fortify your covenant this way:
let your goods and your provisions be His;
let your striving be to know the Truth:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

The saints are God's chosen:
they wipe the rust from hearts;
their dealings are with the Friend:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Put away the heart's confusion;
do not adorn the wild design;
before the soul-bird takes flight:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Pass beyond this long anxiety;
bring the self to submission early;
do not look at the Friend from outside:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

This soul will not remain yours forever;
whoever goes there does not come back;
late regret will do no good:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Let go of this world from your hand;
make ready for the hereafter;
do not be distant from the saints:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

If you love God,
call sweetly upon that King:
God will show mercy, by God:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Yunus, before you are filled with regret,
reach the saints before you die;
before this world laughs at you:
come, pledge your faith to the saints.

Poem 315

I say to you, O saint:
rise for the dawn prayer.
If you are not already dead:
rise for the dawn prayer.

The muezzin chants the call;
he cries out the name of God;
do not destroy the foundation of your faith:
rise for the dawn prayer.

The birds take to flight;
the trees recite their praise;
O brothers who have received grace:
rise for the dawn prayer.

Perform the prayer, make remembrance;
lift your hands, give thanks;
think upon the day you will die:
rise for the dawn prayer.

Pray, and let it be your provision;
let it be needed in the hereafter;
let it be a lamp in your grave:
rise for the dawn prayer.

Pray with faith;
do not lie down in doubt;
may you depart with trust:
rise for the dawn prayer.

The soul, too, shall go out and depart;
the body, too, shall lie just so —
Dervish Yunus, you too:
rise for the dawn prayer.

Poem 316

Show me a dwelling whose end is not ruin;
look at that wealth you earned — none of it will remain with you.

Your gold will scatter, your fortune will pass to another;
know that the fortune left behind you will do you no good.

The wealth that is Abraham's — they spend it on good works;
the wealth that is Korah's — its owner will find no rest.

When Israfil blows his trumpet, the mountains will rise from their places;
a thousand Solomons could not answer a single ant.

This world will be left entirely ownerless — its gold and fortune spilled;
it will pour away like a public fountain, its owner never found.

Come, Yunus Emre, before you die — walk on the straight road;
those who renounce the world will not die tomorrow in the Presence.

Poem 317

If I weep for the Friend's sake, who will wipe my eyes?
How shall my tears subside with such a wondrous pain?

O companions, come here — let me tell you of my state:
is there anyone at all who can make a remedy for this pain?

Even if the entire world came, without Him there would be no cure;
who can remedy my pain when He is loved within my heart?

If I die and enter the grave, my flesh and body will not decay —
because I depart this world with love.

My friends say to me, "We shall see him no more";
my form has fallen into separation, from one station to another.

I met a tearful gnostic who said, "Weep!
The one who weeps much here goes there laughing, laughing."

Before the foreknowledge, before even "Am I not?" had appeared:
I was He and He was I — how shall it be severed now?

In the bazaar of Judgment, every servant has the worry of his own head;
but the one who loves — what does he care? — for He is with him at the Gathering.

My affair with the Friend will not be finished even with death:
how can it be finished, when the Friend is loved within the heart?

When Israfil blows the trumpet, every form will cry "My self!" —
I shall not remember Yunus at all: Tapduk shall come and plead for me in that hour.

Poem 318

How sweet, how lovely is that beauty whose dwelling at this moment is in the soul!
When the Friend takes the house of the soul, He Himself fits within it.

Whoever finds the Friend inside the soul — what would he seek elsewhere?
Those who sought Him outside — their lives passed in scattering.

The one whose love is a mirror shows us to ourselves;
the heart, drunk and in love with God, is captive to this remedy.

If you ask me about Him — my direction is toward the Friend;
in whatever state I walk, my love grows greater by the day.

Whoever else exists in this form turns his face another way;
the Friend has taken my existence — what remains here is my trace.

To those who ask me about Him, how can I give a sign?
By whose tongue can one say where love's dwelling is?

How blessed: whoever that Divine fortune befriends —
who spent his life with the Friend in this circle, in this place.

Whoever goes toward the Friend must leave his selfhood behind;
the fellow who comes to seize the world shall not pass through this court.

Come, see how sweet it is: old men become young men;
before their drunkenness sobers, what tumult they make in this arena!

Yunus, come see the lovers — how they keep going astray,
having let go of world and hereafter: neither giving nor taking.

Poem 319

We have received the charter of meaning once more into our hands:
the King has given the word of Truth upon our tongue.

He speaks the words of Truth and makes the souls amazed;
the ignorant cannot enter this journey of ours.

They do not reach our secret; truly they are not companions;
not just anyone becomes a sharer of this state of ours.

Be a companion to our state, be a fellow on our road;
let your difficulty be made plain — bow your head before our elder.

This is a hidden treasure: what do the pretenders want here?
Many ducks and geese alight nicely on our lake.

That Eternal One — we found Him; we let the world go from our hands;
we accepted the hereafter; we are grateful to our elder.

Yunus, be the ocean; plunge into the sea of light;
receive these words of Truth, and you shall reach our mine.

Poem 320

The beholder's state turns to the signless, the unmarked;
You intoxicated all the people — You made them drink the pure cup.

With all these attributes You were hidden, O sovereign;
You are the fortune of lovers — You became famous to all the world.

The ear that heard Him fell silent and remained in awe;
all hearts absolutely cried "We believe!" to the proof.

Unity with You is eternal life;
all that is other than You, we knew, is empty fable.

Your wisdom reaches far — You are the resting-place of souls;
the lamp You lit, we knew, burns forever.

You are the gate of the elect — You are the lovers' book;
absolutely, those who see the door of the Face are Your creation.

That the earth and sky stand firm, that the seas send forth waves,
that Paradise and the Houris exist — all of it is Your pretext.

When earth and sky did not yet exist, when every word was still unspoken,
the lovers were already worshipping that signless, Holy One.

Without Your brow rising, without bow drawn or arrow shot,
before Israfil blows the trumpet — how many souls awaken!

This eye cannot see its own self; the sign gives no sign of itself;
Yunus's mind does not reach — indeed he has become mad.

Poem 321

Let us praise Muhammad — upon our heads be it;
for that Muhammad walked upon the Throne.

He set foot on the Throne — that Messenger of God is mine;
every idol fell headlong upon the ground.

He gazed upon a stone — His miracles prevailed;
upon it rose the letters Ta, Sin, Ya — many a pattern on the stone.

The stone spoke in His hand — "You are the Messenger of God!" it said;
for that reason, God left not one stone upon another.

Three times the unbelievers gave Muhammad poison;
one he ate with the lamb, another upon his meal.

He turned the poison to sugar — that Messenger of God;
send blessings upon him, bee-like, with grief and tears upon your face.

My Yunus Emre, again send greeting to Mustafa;
he too shall receive it — with face and head, upon his head.

Poem 322

If you watch for the path of the Truth,
come, let us burn with the friends.
If you follow the lovers' traces,
come, let us burn with the friends.

This world has no faithfulness,
its every suffering beyond count;
there is no constancy in it —
come, let us burn with the friends.

All of them found it by burning;
they reached the Face of the Truth;
they saw the caravan's burden —
come, let us burn with the friends.

What do you think you are doing in this world?
Enough of wandering in desire!
Let us seek a remedy for the wound —
come, let us burn with the friends.

Where is the father? Where is the mother?
You know this world is passing;
there the soul needs rest —
come, let us burn with the friends.

O helpless Yunus, at once —
the Friend's road needs a sacrifice;
give your soul and seek the Beloved —
come, let us burn with the friends.

Poem 323

Who has anything to give You — to make Your sword gleam?
The whole world is under Your command; who knows how to interfere?

When the Giver and the Taker are You, who can make a move?
The value and the buyer are Yours — who can sell Your wares?

All treasuries are Yours: You give to whomever You will;
who has the courage to stretch out a hand without permission?

The existence of both worlds is held by the hand of Power;
there is no road for anyone to take a single step without You.

Over all the worlds You have ordained good and evil;
mercy and wrath are dispatched to return to their own origin.

Without divine grace and favour, who can act as cause?
Wherever sedition lurks, Your strength suffices to set it in motion.

Who are Iblis and Satan to meddle there?
You placed each in its proper station — the servant came to serve.

O friends, listen to these words with the ear of the heart;
the soul's lip must be pure to taste the wine of unity.

In the presence of one who says "Unity," there is no saying "you and I";
Yunus — You softened his tongue to utter this declaration of oneness.

Poem 324

Whoever is given dervishhood:
his heart's grime departs — he is purified, he becomes silver.

From his breath, musk and ambergris arise;
from his branches, town and country take fruit.

His leaves become a remedy for the afflicted;
in his shade, many a step is worked.

The lover's tears become a lake;
from its foot, reeds grow and it becomes a reed-bed.

All poets are nightingales of the Friend's garden;
Yunus Emre in their midst becomes a francolin.

Poem 325

My mind did not come to its senses until I tasted love's wine;
I did not know where I was until I reached a true man.

How easily does a lover come to being?
No one reaches the destination without holding the saint's hem.

In the lover's heart are many roads, and on those roads a thousand states;
no one understands this road without selling both unbelief and faith.

Since the nightingale is a lover of the rose, and the gaze comes from God to the servant,
no word comes to the tongue until it blossoms in the hearts.

If you need religion and faith, live well in this world;
your business is not finished there tomorrow unless it is finished here today.

I cannot contain this secret in my heart; shall I tell it to you?
How can lovers endure without selling love's wares?

Poor Yunus's words — only a true lover can understand;
it is the language of birds: what can he do? — it is not heard until the bird sings.

Poem 326

Lovers — He will not burn them in Hell;
they will not bow their heads to His Paradise.

The seven Hells cannot endure a single sigh;
the seven seas cannot quench love's fire.

If you do not obey His command like Adam,
in three hundred years He will not dry your tears.

Without enduring a thousand years of suffering like Noah,
He will not board you on the Ark in His Flood.

Without becoming a sacrifice like Ishmael,
He will not send down a ram from heaven for anyone.

Without shepherding like Moses,
He will not call you "My Spoken-to" and send you to Sinai.

Without having a character like Muhammad's,
He will not show you the Face of the Truth.

Yunus, abandon this empty claim;
woe to the one whom God does not awaken.

Poem 327

One must become servant to a King who is never deposed —
one must lean on a threshold that no one can take away.

One must become a bird and fly, one must pass to a shore,
one must drink from a sherbet from which those who drink never sober.

One must be a nimble diver, one must plunge into an ocean,
one must bring up a jewel that no jeweler can appraise.

One must enter a garden, one must walk in delight,
one must smell a rose that never, ever fades.

A person must become a lover, must find the Beloved,
must burn in love's fire and then burn in no other fire.

One must celebrate a feast, one must tell a lineage,
one must speak a word that no one can fathom.

A person must know the Truth, must receive word of the Truth,
must die while yet alive and then go there and never die.

Poor Yunus, sit and be patient; turn your face toward the Presence;
bring a man like Tapduk — one who has never come into the world.

Poem 328

O you who have become love's madman — why have you remained scattered?
The one who made you mad is still within you, within you.

This world, the hereafter, the Truth — earth and sky are filled with Him absolutely;
yet He is invisible to every eye: who knows what sign He gives?

Whoever says "I have seen Him" must be seized and burned;
whoever brings doubt of Him is in neither religion nor faith.

If I went to the tavern, I could not find a place without Him;
I stumbled upon Him again when I entered the bathhouse furnace.

Whoever searched his body found his adversary in his own body;
neither world nor hereafter matters to him — neither profit nor loss.

To some He says "Flee!"; to some He says "Hold!";
He flees with those who flee and stands with those who stand.

He calls His servants "thieves" and imprisons them;
when He sends rescue, He is there in the prison too.

They say to poor Yunus: "Why have you become mad?"
What mind and understanding could remain when one catches wind of this secret?

Poem 329

Love's fire fell into my soul — to burn me, to set me ablaze;
the water of seven seas is not enough to slake my thirst.

What can the water of seven seas do for the thirsty lover's soul?
My sheikh's face is all I need — to bow my head when I see him.

Let me see my sheikh, let me bow my head, let me clasp my hands, let me stand before him;
let me gather myself and compose myself — to send myself to the Friend's land.

The Friend struck a wound upon my heart — my wound will not heal, what remedy?
The place where my heart has fallen — my hand cannot reach to turn it.

The saint's breath turns it; when you reach God's elect,
it wipes the rust from hearts — to fill their place with light.

He takes my hand and raises me, He gladdens me and makes me laugh,
He fills my heart with mercy — to teach the saint to know the Truth.

Yunus, abandon false claims; come, cleanse and set aside all else;
make the house of your heart spotless — to receive the Friend when He comes.

Poem 330

A pain within me has arisen — let me tell it to the dervishes;
the dervishes' step is blessed for every task.

Whoever has a pain goes seeking a remedy;
my remedy is You — You who are within my breast, above all wounds.

You take your lessons from love, and you know them well;
how can you deem it fitting to serve the dervishes?

From the cruelty of Your love, I weep day and night;
what likeness can a flowing spring bear to the tears that fall from my eyes?

Let us set a trap for the soul — perhaps love will fall into our hands;
how do they hunt love? Let us ask those who have caught it.

It comes so lightly, like a breeze — who knows the science of the trap?
How shall we set a trap for these birds that have never yet alighted?

Yunus, the one who took your heart — to whom can you tell it?
If you would ask, then ask those who have found Him.

Poem 331

The living, devoted lover — his authority extends over souls;
the food and wine are never exhausted for those who eat at love's table.

This ruined world always works at seeking;
it shows its ruins to those who find themselves.

Love on the tongue is cheap; those who know love are few;
both world and hereafter must be abandoned by those who say "I am a lover."

Let the world slip from your hands; do not be far from the Truth;
the capital has become nothing for those who wash away possessions.

A station greater than this one — neither joy nor sorrow exist;
courage must burst for those who say "It is a struggle."

Come now, poor Yunus — be not false on His road;
you know love is not deceived by those who tell lies.

Poem 332

This time I bathed anew in love's water —
I wonder: am I the knower within knowledge?

Today I became the diver of love's sea —
I have found jewels within the ocean.

I am today the tavern and reproach —
I am the one who walks in contemplation.

Though form has donned the garment of disbelief,
the heart's soul sees within it faith.

If you are a knower, know: the building
is itself again within the shop.

Many seek Him, yet
I alone am deprived, a mere guest among guests.

Yunus — by Your love this world stands;
that is why it revolves within the turning.

Poem 333

We hold no enemy toward anyone — even strangers are friends to us;
wherever there is desolation, that is neighborhood and city to us.

Our name is "the poor" — who is our enemy?
We hold grudge against none — all the world is friend to us.

Our guide is the Quran, our homeland is Paradise —
God shall burn that Hell; it is the rose of the rose garden for us.

When we eat the grief of the hereafter, when day and night we cry "Yā Hū!" —
when we turn toward God, there is a road through the sea for us.

The world is a woman grown old — she leads many astray;
let that trickster pass on — to love her is shame for us.

The world is forbidden to the elect, yet lawful to the raw;
we do not hold this world as Friend — that world is filth for us.

Yunus says: we say "Allah!" — we are seized by God;
turning our face to His threshold, there is but one confession for us.

Poem 334

A wondrous love came upon me in this state —
it made my heart a throne and sat upon the soul.

You are the sultan, I the slave; You are the rose, I the nightingale —
Your command extends over the world, over all that exists upon the servant.

When early spring arrives and the trees are clothed,
see how the nightingales praise upon the rose.

You see the lovers wandering among the people —
there are those whose eyes see not, though they sit upon the road.

Yunus, do not boast, saying "I have spoken words" —
there are those who speak better: hand upon hand.

Poem 335

The darkness of winter has gone — spring has come with summer;
new shoots have grown, all swaying with grace.

Again it has become a meadow, again a rose garden;
fresh melody plays with music and instrument.

Good tidings came from the Friend — He created garden and orchard;
the nightingale recites a thousand tales with secrets.

Who has seen the owl enter the rose garden?
Storks cannot recite remembrance with a gentle voice.

However you may hide it, a grain does not become a jewel;
the partridge flies with the partridge, always the hawk with the hawk.

The hand's bird goes hand to hand, the rose's bird rose to rose;
the owl loves ruins, the falcons love to soar.

Wherever there is a carcass, the vultures gather there;
parrots find their home sweet, even within the cage.

Each person finds their fitting companion for themselves —
the truthful with confession, the devout with prayer.

The ignorant, the hypocrite, the denier — all grateful for their wits;
the lovers love the Face, the knowers love with supplication.

What they call dervishhood is not news upon the tongue —
for the one who becomes Truth with the Truth, there the station is prepared.

Those who say "I am a dervish," making false claims —
tomorrow they shall not see God's Face with the eye.

What good is knowledge and deeds if you have broken one heart?
The knower's building of a heart is equal to the pilgrimage.

The Great Court shall be set, there servanthood shall be questioned —
a thousand proud ones cannot match one stranger's kindness.

The crooked with the crooked, the straight with the straight —
lies love lies, slanderers love slanderers.

Some look out from the shop, some love pleasures;
some need a single coin, some gamble the soul.

When destiny touches the servant, even the sultan cannot seize it —
what did Dhul-Qarnayn achieve, even with Khidr and Elias?

Do you not see Ibrahim Edhem? He abandoned his throne —
he became elect before God with an old rag.

Do not trust this world; do not think the world is yours —
how many have said "it is mine" and departed in raw shroud-cloth.

The raindrops of love drip from the sky of the heart;
the wind of love carries the rain together with the frost.

Yunus, now do not grieve — do not say "what shall I do, what shall I make?";
whatever was written in eternity shall come upon the head.

Poem 336

Do not say "I came or did not come" to this realm of the world —
hold fast to the saints' hem; never let go from your hand.

Do not be heedless — life has passed, a number of years gone by;
love has boiled and overflowed: do not say "I found or did not find."

Love is a restless sea — float your soul upon love;
there are depths in the sea: do not say "I swam or did not swim."

The ship entered the sea and sailed a while —
one day the ship sank: do not say "I wrecked or did not wreck."

In the sea the truths swim; the fish circle —
Yunus, do not say "I dived or did not dive" into the sea's wave.

Poem 337

Even if the world turns enemy, it cannot part me from the Friend —
wherever the Friend is, there I am: enmity cannot divide.

The people of the Friend are with us — and the Friend is here: what grief for us?
Though the enemy try a hundred thousand efforts, they cannot breach the Friend's assembly.

What can the enemy do to me? My work and strength are toward the Friend —
the Friend's station is within the soul: the enemy's hand cannot reach it.

Sultans are helpless there — it is neither in the heart nor in the soul;
deprived in both worlds is the one who may not see the Friend's face.

For whomever the Friend opens the door, the enemy flees from their hand —
Yunus's mouth scatters jewels: no ordinary knower can gather them.

Poem 338

Let me tell what my life is, hair by hair —
let near and far hear it, the elect and the common, all together.

Elect and common, obedient and rebel — all are the Friend's servants;
unless the servants travel the road, who can reach the King?

The road of the one going to the Friend passes through the heart —
I have performed no deed: would that I might enter the heart.

Those who go to the Friend forget themselves —
wherever I go, my self goes with me.

When there is "you" and "I," the matter stays in duality —
the one who holds duality: how can they unite with the One?

From now on, with the Friend, I do not know what shall be —
until now my life has passed in empty longing.

This story of mine is long — how can I know when it is done?
Which of my shortcomings can I bring to the tongue?

The feet of seventy-two nations must be kissed —
for the sake of the Beloved, together with every nation.

Were Yunus a lover, he would find union today —
does a lover rest content with tomorrow's promise?

Poem 339

Seeking my Beloved — the task in this world —
I wandered far and wide through earth and heaven.

I roamed all the worlds — the Throne, the Tablet, and the Pen —
and knowledge of the Book, as proof and exposition within.

With great effort I searched — I looked through earth and sky;
I found Him in no place: I found Him within the human being.

I entered the ocean of existence, I dived to its depths —
while journeying with love, I found the trace within the soul.

I followed that trace well, I watched my right and left —
I reached wonders that are not found within the world.

Suddenly I saw a Face — there are no words for it;
if I were to gather its secret, it would not fit within the tongue.

When I saw that Face, I gave my self to it —
it carried me beyond myself: I remained within astonishment.

Yunus Emre was annihilated — all his existence was annihilated;
beyond that there is nothing: do not remain within doubt.

Poem 340

A word has come to my tongue — let me speak on the subject of death;
it falls upon the righteous Muslim and upon the tyrant alike.

When the appointed time reaches the soul and it rises to the upper inn,
they bind my feet, my hands, my sleeves upon themselves.

They shall wash me clean and lay me in my tomb —
even unbelievers will pity, looking upon my state.

Alas, what will become of my state, if my condition is not known?
Snake and scorpion and ant shall swarm upon my tongue.

They shall carry me to the grave and go home again —
then they shall set up quarrels over my possessions.

O Yunus, do not boast, saying "I speak words" —
there are many who know: hand upon hand above mine.

Poem 341

Since the finest of crafts is prayer, a goodly practice —
in the one who prays, no evil thought remains.

Rise at dawn and come; plunge your hands in water;
say blessings three times, then look to the sun.

Hold to God's command — perform your prayer and go;
until you have prayed, never go to work.

Teach your wife at home the five daily prayers —
if she does not heed your counsel, the fault does not fall on you for nothing.

The earnings of one who does not pray are all forbidden —
even if they have a thousand gold coins, not one is of use.

Do not call the one who does not pray a Muslim —
they are never a Muslim: their liver has turned to stone.

Yunus, now do not abandon prayer — perform it and see:
suddenly death arrives, and life reaches its end.

Poem 342

I saw a moon tonight, higher than all the constellations —
it intoxicated my heart and soul: I do not know what has become of me.

It is the light of Muhammad's light, the secret of the Friend of God —
you would think a window had opened from Paradise.

From that moon's radiance the world became illumined —
the great Master kindled the lamp within my heart.

The pretender does not see us, though we enter his eye —
let him go a hundred times to the Ka'ba on the great pilgrimage.

It is plain from the lovers' faces, evident from their complexion —
whoever has not become a lover resembles a dry tree.

What do they do with a dry tree? They cut it and burn it as fuel —
when the nightingales begin to sing, the turn does not reach the pheasant.

Let whoever praises Yunus praise him, let whoever reviles him revile —
the felt has been cast upon the water: what does it matter, morning or night?

Poem 343

The summer days have come again —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.
All the flowers are adorned —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

When winter departed, spring arrived —
it woke your soul from heedlessness.
Every land has become a Paradise —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

The trees have donned green robes;
the birds fly, spreading their wings;
your breath bestows souls —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

Make your ecstasy with love —
it drives confusion from the heart.
Go out before the rose garden:
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

The rose grows on a dry thorn —
it still reaches from its longing.
Have you become more stricken than I?
Sing, my little nightingale, sing.

The nightingale is the lover of the rose —
who knows the lover's state?
Before the rose, with sweet love:
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

The treasury of Power has opened —
mercy has been scattered upon the world;
the robes of Paradise have been cut and sewn —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

My master is there and I am here —
my soul cannot rest within the body.
My lamentation goes on day and night —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

You know how to open your wings;
opening them, you know how to fly;
you know how to cross the seas —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

They took your young from the nest —
they drove you mad.
"So goes the time," they said —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

The greater part of my life has passed —
you leave this rose garden behind.
Yunus's companion, his friend —
sing, my little nightingale, sing.

Poem 344

With your love let the lovers burn, O Messenger of God —
having drunk the wine of your love, let them be sated, O Messenger of God.

The one who loves you has laid his head upon your path —
you are the sun of both worlds, O Messenger of God.

To those who love you, grant your intercession —
to bodies that have found faith you are their soul, O Messenger of God.

The All-Glorious loved you — you became sultan over all —
let my soul be a sacrifice upon your path, O Messenger of God.

I am the lover of that face, the nightingale of that rose garden —
let whoever does not love you burn in the Fire, O Messenger of God.

Dervish Yunus's soul — the world, the wellspring of intercession —
you are the sultan of both worlds, O Messenger of God.

Poem 345

Who brought news from the Friend? — ask the dawn breezes.
May Çalap, my Lord, not decree separation for his servants.

Alas, this separation, this parting — for whom does the world remain forever?
Çalap, my Lord, has become the cupbearer — he offers the cup to his servants.

That cup is full to the brim: whoever drinks it goes mad.
Know that the master's seekers have tied themselves to his path.

The master's seekers are many, and none is lesser than another;
the one whose guide is the Truth does not follow the ways of common folk.

The one who opposes his ego — his tears flow without ceasing;
the one who here follows the ego shall not plunge into Kevser's pools.

Those who plunge into Kevser's pool — those who die before they die —
those who know their ego as their enemy shall rest on the branches of Tuba.

Those who fly from Tuba's branches, those who pass through high stations —
those who drink the purified wine no longer dip into the world's honey.

No one takes this meaning from here; whoever goes there does not return.
No one remains in this world — all who come depart to their own lands.

What shall poor Yunus do? To whom shall he tell his grief?
Let him try for one moment the conditions of this world.

Poem 346

Where were you? Where did you come from, O madman?
Open your eyes — wake from this heedlessness.

The caravan has passed — you were lost in heedlessness.
Beware — do not squander your capital to ruin.

Where is your father? Where is your mother, your sons and daughters?
To whom does time ever keep its promise?

In truth you know that one day you will die —
then why do you give yourself to delusion?

You flee from serving God —
yet why do you serve tyrants?

For God's sake you have not a single coin to give —
yet why do you spend your gain on waste?

Yunus, do not count your ego a believer —
unless from this moment on it turns entirely to faith.

Poem 347

When your inside and outside are filthy —
what shall Love do with you?
When the eye of your heart is sleeping —
what shall Love do with you?

You became the companion of lovers but were not the friend of the truthful;
you did not die before you died — what shall Love do with you?

You made the worldly eye bright and blinded the eye of the heart —
when darkness fills your heart, what shall Love do with you?

We need a true dervish — the world is full of pretenders.
If yours is a false claim, what shall Love do with you?

Do not suppose that being a dervish comes merely from arranging appearances;
if your work is all on the tongue, what shall Love do with you?

Yunus Emre — drive on, carry through your good grief;
if you do not walk the straight path, what shall Love do with you?

Poem 348

Whoever needs the Friend, let me tell him what to do:
let him abandon himself — never think of what he will become.

It is the custom of lovers to be sacrificed before the Friend;
every lover holds it a grace that Love may take his soul.

Whoever has not become a lover has not escaped the grip of cunning —
Love dissolves all the tribulations of this world and the next.

Not every soul is worthy to be spent upon the Friend's path;
every lover hopes to be a sacrifice to the Friend.

The one who goes toward the Friend must pass beyond himself;
the Friend plunders the city of the soul and takes the fortress of the heart.

For the one who sets his heart upon the Friend's path, there is no turning back;
do you not know that all of this will remain behind when you are gone?

Since the lover's cry is but anguish, patience is the only remedy —
come, in the world's tavern of Love, drink the wine, savor the cupbearer.

The eye of form cannot see where the Friend's gathering is;
it is the ear of the soul that hears the lament of these lovers.

In this world, Yunus could love nothing more than the Friend;
do you not know that both friend and foe shall laugh at the one without zeal?

Poem 349

They say I do not pray — but I perform my prayer.
Whether I pray or whether I don't, the Truth knows my supplication.

None but the Truth knows who is infidel and who is believer.
I perform my prayer — if the Truth accepts my coquetry, so be it.

That coquetry is accepted at the Court — one drinks of the wine of meaning;
without any veil the eye of the soul opens — the Friend himself wipes my eyes.

The Friend is here, plain to see — I have seen the Friend's face openly.
Whoever grasps this wisdom and knowing makes his way toward me.

The eye of the heart stays awake; wherever I look, the Beloved is there.
Whoever has reason and understanding knows my words.

Expounding the hidden word, speaking manifold subtleties —
not every gnostic can expound this hidden secret of mine.

Reach the meaning of my words — bring news of the Signless One;
ask the lovers in pain — ask of my grief and burning.

Grief is the lovers' remedy; lovers in grief are rich.
It is the voice of Power and Might — whoever hears it recognizes my cry.

Whoever seeks the Friend, let him come to me — I will show him the Friend.
This is my word, first to last: I know myself.

Yunus, now speak the Truth — the denier shall deny you too.
Cook and serve the Truth's feast — let the gnostics taste my salt.

Poem 350

God will send you one day the sentinel of death —
he will appear before your eyes and drive the color from your face.

He will say: "Return the trust — its Owner wants to take it back."
He will seize the trust from you and wage his battle with you.

He will take the trust from you and leave your body empty and void;
your sins will hang upon your neck while your ego sounds its battle-cry.

If your wealth was great, O lord, your kin and tribe shall divide it;
they will carry you to the grave — you will see the tightness of your place.

They will leave you in your grave and say "Blessed resting-place" —
they will quickly heap upon you this world's dust and stone.

You will be in a dark place — you will be left with your deeds;
crying "Ah!" you will strike and strike the harp of final regret.

Yunus, go now — repent; while the soul is still in you, do good works.
If you are a lover, gird yourself and see the halter of the dervishes.

Poem 351

I have a question for your service, O chief of dervishes:
what do the masters command? — what are the tidings of the path?

Give answer to the question — let us hold it as the truth:
to whom does the chimney of Love's house show its light?

The first gate is the Law — it teaches what is commanded and forbidden;
each syllable of the Quran washes your sins.

The second is the Way — know that it binds you to service;
the master forgives the one who walks the path straight.

The third is Gnosis — it opens the eye of the soul and heart;
look upon the palace of meaning — its height reaches to the Throne.

The fourth is Reality — it does not look upon anyone with contempt;
its day is a holy feast, its night is the Night of Power.

The Law is hard; the Way is steep;
Gnosis is rugged terrain — and Reality is the summit.

On the dervish's four sides, four great gates must stand;
wherever he looks, the night becomes day.

For the dervish who reaches this, both worlds are unveiled;
the Master of masters praises his qualities.

Within four states the dervish must endure discipline;
the wayfarer who nests along the way but does not reach the station remains.

Forty men cannot bring a single tree down from the mountain —
how then shall all these disciples and devotees cross the Bridge?

While shooting the arrow of disbelief, beware — do not strike your faith;
let cunning and its strength be worn away, and let the vessel become a free offering.

Four gates, forty stations, one hundred and sixty resting-places:
for whoever reaches them, the degrees of sainthood open.

Lover Yunus does not speak his words as impossible things;
he shows the face of meaning — this elder of poets.

Poem 352

Does not the light of the Truth descend upon lovers at every moment?
Is not the one upon whom it does not descend dismissed from the Truth?

"From heart to heart there is a road," the saints have said —
is not the straight, true road from every heart to every heart?

If you put a crow and a nightingale in a single cage,
are they not always weary of each other's company?

Just as the crow desires to be rid of the nightingale —
is not the nightingale's heart's desire the very same?

The parable of the fool and the gnostic resembles this:
in the fool's estimation, is not faith itself an unknown?

The mystic and the scholar quarrel at every turn —
the scholar tells the mystic: "Are you not without the Law?"

The gnostic knows the speech of seventy-two nations.
Are not Yunus Emre's words always the foundation?

Poem 353

Love's merchant — his capital is the soul;
I have seen: the brave one is the one who risks his life.

What a hero — he abandons the soul!
Can a sword cut the one who has donned spiritual aspiration?

See all as one; see the lowest as a saint.
Do not look down upon the one who wears the dervish's rags.

Swiftly they raise to the highest heights
the one who abandons the world, like Jesus — know this.

Swiftly they cast down beneath the earth
one like Korah, who hoarded the world.

The one who is a lover bears a sign:
blame is his clear proclamation.

Be not proud of your learning and your deeds —
God accepted the one who stripped his shroud.

He left his silk and donned the rough wool:
Ibrahim Adham, who sensed the secret.

When Mansur saw, he said "That is I" —
they burned him in the fire — you have heard of him.

You burned him in the fire, you scattered his ashes —
is that how you treat the one who loves you?

Beware, O Yunus — do not say "I have seen";
they drag to the gallows the one who says "I have seen."

Poem 354

When that beauty first appeared before my eyes,
I gave my heart and soul to her — her love became my companion.

My heart says "I am her servant"; my soul says "I am her servant" —
I cannot tell which is greater: between these two a war arose.

Between these two I understood that the treasure was mine all along;
though I sought no counsel, my head became easy with her.

One moment of life with her surpasses a thousand years of my life;
every day spent apart from her became a wound upon my heart.

Wherever I look, it is she who appears to my eyes —
before me, behind me, to my right, to my left: all corners became her eye and brow.

Though I am not Khidr or Elias, I stumbled upon deathless life;
though I never ate or drank, my inside became full of sustenance.

If I were to describe the qualities of the lovers who love her —
upon the rope of her love, they became gentler than a sheep.

How many lions claim they will not bow their necks to Love —
the one who raged before, chained by your love, became tame.

In the heart of all the world her love exists;
know that whoever does not love her with his soul — his faith became stone.

Lest the fire of your love leap to no one at all —
a single spark touched Yunus and he became known throughout the world.

Poem 355

Before earth and sky were created, the Truth made a single jewel;
He gazed upon the jewel — it seeped forth — He made it a pearl.

From the jewel He drew forth mist; from the mist He created the sky;
He adorned the face of the sky — He made many stars.

He told the sky: "Turn!" He said: "Let sun and moon revolve!"
He suspended the water — He made the earth upon it.

The earth heaved and would not rest — it found no peace for a moment;
the Truth made lofty, lofty mountains as its anchors.

Azrael came down from the sky and took a handful of earth;
four angels kneaded it — He made a prophet.

When the soul entered the body, it sneezed and stood upright;
at that moment it raised its hands and gave thanks to God.

God says to Adam: "Now that you have reached this moment —
in this world, what did you say? What did your tongue speak?"

"You made me exist when I was nothing; You gave soul to dust.
With the tongue of Your Power You invoked — You made my tongue speak."

This word pleased God — He made His servant honored;
whatever passed through his heart, He gave it — He made it ready.

From where does this word come to Yunus? — who can give news of the soul?
Perhaps the Owner of Grace cast His gaze upon him.

Poem 356

Çalap made Adam's body from clay into being.
Satan came — to bow before Adam, he found it shameful.

He said, "I am of fire and light; he, a handful of dust."
He did not know that within Adam, God had placed a jewel.

He saw Adam's outward form and did not look within.
He did not know that God had made Adam the master of creation.

Forty years the mould lay still, yet its fame filled the world.
See what mischief Satan wrought out of his jealousy.

Adam lay as clay, yet his name had already filled the world.
Look at the cunning of Iblis — he thought himself clever.

He drove the galloping horses over Adam's body.
He brought his trickery upon Adam, thinking he had won.

From Adam's navel, Çalap created him.
Crying "Vaf!" he rose — they passed clean through.

When Adam's age passed and Moses' time arrived,
these affairs had dealt Iblis a harsh blow.

Moses ascended Sinai to converse with God.
He saw a stream flowing — Moses gazed upon it.

Moses said, "Let me see where this water comes from.
If it flows like this, it will overturn everything."

Moses went forward: the cursed one sat weeping.
His tears were that stream — he had made a spring of them.

Moses asked the cursed one, "Why do you weep?"
"What can I do but weep?" he said. "My lot is all lamentation."

"I was among the nearest, Moses, at God's court.
He lifted me and cast me down — He made my affair into evil."

"Do you not know, Moses, from what I was severed?
These ones fell before me and made me drunk with fury."

"Go — tell Him, O Moses! Let Him show mercy upon me."
He repented of his deeds and made sincere supplication.

Moses came to the Presence, conversing with God,
but he forgot the trust — he made the message short.

God said to Moses, "You forgot the trust!"
At that call, Moses scattered his very soul.

"Go, tell him, O Moses — I shall show him mercy
if he will prostrate before Adam, since he has sought forgiveness."

Moses came to the cursed one and told God's command.
When he heard "prostrate," he turned back and refused.

[Six couplets missing from the source at this point — OCR damage, Tatcı edition pp. 290–291.]

I had hoped from him a cure for my pain.
He only increased my suffering — that is what he called treatment.

If I could have bowed to him, I would have done it then.
Now he has become dust — he has turned everything upside down.

Who is Adam, who is Iblis? The doer of all deeds is Çalap.
He created the moon and sun; He made night and day.

What is the meaning? From Iblis — but all ignorance is from us.
What did you hear in these words? He made the secret of secrets.

Çalap says, "For that servant whose grace comes from Me,
neither Satan shall lead astray, nor shall anyone prevail."

Adam, who passed six thousand seven hundred years ago —
Yunus has brought him to the tongue. He made the tale brief.

Poem 357

Is he a lover who would not give his life for the Beloved?
Is he wise who seeks Him through worldly means?

Is he a man who does not spend his life in service?
Is he a knower who cannot tell gain from loss?

Is he a scholar whose deeds are unworthy of his knowledge?
Is he a fool who sells both worlds for Love?

Is he a worshipper who never practiced devotion or sincerity?
Do not call "sinner" the one who knows himself guilty.

Is he drunk who has not sipped the cup from the Friend?
Do not call "good" the one who follows the self in heedlessness.

Is it a heart that never contemplated wisdom?
Or is it an eye that does not shed blood in place of tears?

Poor Yunus has no capital, O God,
save this: he loves the one who loves You with Love.

Poem 358

We did not know ourselves — He made us out of Himself.
He made us manifest; He made Himself hidden.

We too were hidden — beyond "you" and "I."
We were utterly without doubt — and without doubt He made us.

He measured out the clay and traced the form's lines.
He set four elements upright and named them "human."

When He created Adam, all of us were there.
All these, common and elect, He made from a single mine.

In the primal mine we were, carefree and rich.
In that world without sign, He set us flowing.

Behold Çalap's grace — He does not break the sinner's heart.
With a thousand thousand mercies and kindness He made His interpreter.

All go to one place; few arrive.
Two are one and one bears fruit — see what a reason He made of it.

When the self took charge, we scattered down every road.
The sweetness became sustenance — He made "you" and "I."

There is neither "you" nor "I," nor anyone — whatever you hold is a lie.
Whoever remains in the world's filth — his affair is all conjecture.

From Adam until now, he has neither strength nor power.
Both clothing and food He made from a single seed.

In the Primordial Covenant we were there; we opened our eyes and said "Yes."
Yunus and all others — He made them all at once.

Poem 359

Whoever sees, as I have seen, my Beloved's face —
he will go mad, take to the mountains, lose himself entirely.

Who could render thanks, even once, for seeing You?
God forbid that anyone who sees You should ever avert his eyes.

What tongue could describe the beauty of His order?
The soul must be the taster — tasting the salt of His ways.

Whatever a person loves, that word is always on his tongue.
I cannot keep from speaking the words of the one who stole my heart.

With such sweet ways — wherever I look,
His word would pass through seventy-two nations.

No one ever became a lover of the Friend by choice.
He placed the lovers' star in the tower of Love.

To those without pain, my words sound like a mountain's echo.
Only the companion knows the companion's secret in the heart.

Whoever loves You — his soul lives forever.
He spends day and night always in Your Love.

If Venus had seen with the eyes that Yunus saw,
she would have dropped her lute from her hand and forgotten her instrument.

Poem 360

Whoever asks news of the Friend — the Friend's work is no jest.
Know for certain: he who has no Friend is deprived in this world.

Who is it that sees the Friend's face and gives his life crying "Friend, Friend!"?
That very moment he reaches the Friend, forgetting all confusion.

The Friend's work is a wondrous affair — it sets the soul's sea ablaze.
For the soulless it is but a dream; interpret this dream if you can.

The world is filled with Love's ecstasy — these lovers came from that source.
The flower that blooms without Love wilts; the sweetness of life is through Love.

How shall I speak of Him? He would not accept a hundred thousand souls.
Where is a life worthy of Him? There is no work worthy of Him.

Who could set His price? He calls from beyond.
Grace has come to me from there — I need no Huma bird.

What is the soul before the Friend? The ruling of every tongue is this:
come, see — in this arena, the head of the one who loves the Friend is a polo ball.

For lovers who love the Friend, Love is a dwelling for souls.
Love is the pillar between earth and sky; all else is idle talk.

Yunus — now, while you are still "you" and "I" — for lovers, what is "you" and "I"?
To love Him is nothingness. Let go of this other gaze.

Poem 361

All the world's wealth comes from nothingness.
With all this abundance, the heart's narrowness will not pass.

Sunk in the world's riches, heedless of death's condition —
he reached the wealth of Korah: what a difficult affair!

Who has this world remained for? Whom has it made fortunate?
Not even Solomon was left with its fortune.

Solomon wove baskets and ate by his own labor.
Through that, they found their prophethood.

Come now, poor Yunus — spend what you have in God's way.
You have seen: the world's wealth does not stay in your hand.

Poem 362

The love of my Çalap has pierced my liver.
It took my heart away and laid bare my secret.

It never leaves my eyes, never lessens on my tongue.
Çalap cast His own light into my eyes.

The soul's eye saw Him; the tongue gave word of Him.
He sat within the soul and made my heart His Throne.

He offered a cup to the soul — the soul drank deep.
The measure came full; He made my soul drunk.

My soul is intoxicated; my tongue scatters pearls.
The love of my Çalap has made me a dervish.

His lamp burns in the soul; His dwelling is in the hearts.
Heart and soul alike — Love set them both ablaze.

When shall I become a dervish, when dare I say "I serve God"?
A hundred thousand like me, Love has clothed in the dervish robe.

Yunus now takes comfort — seeing the Friend, he rejoices.
In the assembly of the saints, Love has set all things in motion.

Poem 363

That Friend — I know not how He looked toward me.
He cast upon this city of my body a most gracious gaze.

How can I turn my eyes from His face?
With a thousand sweet ways He captured my heart entirely.

Whoever I ask for counsel points me toward patience.
But the fire of love has burned the curtain of my patience.

How shall my affair reach its end through patience?
My Friend's caress has planted a soul within my soul.

The lover shall rise with the beloved on the morrow.
My work cannot wait until tomorrow — today He has stripped me bare.

Yunus loves his Friend more than his own soul — for this reason:
whatever a person loves, his soul clings to it.

Poem 364

The muezzin called; he stood and made the formal prayer.
He turned his face toward the Presence and set his intention.

My hands bound toward the Presence, my tongue recites the Opening.
Bowing low before God, he performed the prostration.

My place of supplication has become Mount Sinai, it seems.
Like Moses, this heart of mine made sweet communion.

My eyes beheld a form — my face fell into prostration.
All my arrangements collapsed; it checkmated my piety.

I can neither pray nor give the greeting of peace, nor make invocation or praise.
Love has plundered these five daily prayers of mine.

See what Love has done to Yunus — He spoke fine tidings.
He was the Lover of the Beloved — he rendered justice and testimony.

Poem 365

My body's mountains cannot endure Your epiphany's light.
My body's ship — its ropes are not strong enough.

He who makes oceans from a drop, who breaks the soul-bird's shackle,
who swims a hundred thousand seas — come, let us live this age.

For the Beloved's sake, cleanse the city of the heart of all that is other.
For it is the Sultan's throne — they do not let crows settle here.

Whenever "love of homeland" rises in the mind, not a shred of safety remains.
The lover's heart-fat seeps out through the eyes, dripping always.

The wise one's hand cannot reach; if it does, it cannot speak.
Only the one in pain knows the one in pain — what does the healthy one know of the sick?

On whomever You dressed the robe of belovedness,
not a single atom of the gardens of highest Paradise enters his gaze.

Yunus has read the book of Your beauty — he has contemplated it well.
There he sends to the lovers: brands upon brands.

Poem 366

Fill the cup and pass it to us — Love's wine, O cupbearer!
From that chalice we would drink — both sheikh and mendicant.

Our gathering is divine; our words are the water of Kawthar.
Our king is the King of kings; our music is the Friend's parting.

Whoever spends a moment in this gathering — the mufti and the scholar are checkmate.
A divine kingdom it is — whoever drinks from it endures forever.

The cloak and the cap do not open the way; the robe does not make one learned.
Without true faith and conscience, what use are so many pages?

You have read the seven holy books and display pure devotion.
Since you never practiced what you preached — read a hundred thousand more, it avails nothing.

If you went to Mecca a thousand times, if you waged holy war a thousand times —
if you broke a single heart, you could weave the road for a hundred years.

Which is higher — the heart or the Ka'ba? Tell me, you who have reason.
The heart is higher, for God keeps His dwelling in the heart.

God entrusted the neighbor and the hearts to His Messenger.
On the Night of Ascension, with the Friend, this conversation was had too.

Yunus, this is your work: hold fast to the hem of the great ones.
If you wish to be purified, let yourself endure in the hearts.

Poem 367

We heard from the elders: the Man was created first.
The Sovereign's oneness — the Man was the first to know.

For all these years and all this time, we have heard without doubt:
Çalap, from His own handiwork, bestowed divinity upon the Man.

They say there was a bird whose wisdom was beyond measure.
The sage of both worlds took his lesson from that bird.

On every feather of that bird — a hundred and twenty-four thousand.
First that bird flew and plunged into the lake of mercy.

When it turned back from the lake, it alighted upon a branch.
It shook itself — from every feather, a single drop of water fell.

From each drop He created a chosen soul.
Each of those souls became a prophet here on earth.

The first foundation was laid; the world was filled six times.
The seventh was commanded — this Adam was created.

Adam was of clay; Azazel was of fire.
We have heard that Azazel looked at Adam and laughed.

The command to prostrate came for Adam — "Bow down to him!"
All the angels descended. Azazel stood still.

He said, "I am of fire; for a hundred thousand years I worshipped.
Yet the obedience You command — he presented his worship as claim."

From that creation's pride, from the Sovereign's oneness —
for one single word, he was expelled and became cursed.

Whoever sees himself — his master has become Iblis.
Whatever a person has found, he found it through humility.

My lack, God knows; Love, He gives to me.
Heal Yunus — Love has taken me from myself.

368

If you need a lesson, come and see these graves —
if you were stone, you would melt at the sight of them.

Those who had such wealth — see what has become of them:
at last they wear a single shirt, and even that has no sleeves.

Where are those who said "This kingdom is mine," who scorned mansion and palace?
Now they lie in a single house, and stones have become their cover.

They shall not enter that house; they shall not perform devotion or worship.
They shall not find that sovereignty — for their age has passed.

Where are the sweet-spoken ones? Where are the sun-faced ones?
They have vanished so completely that no trace of them appears.

These were once lords — doorkeepers trembled before them.
Come now and look: you cannot tell which is the lord, which the servant.

There is no door to enter; there is no food to eat.
There is no light to see by — their daylight has become night.

One day, Yunus, your "It is I!" will also remain behind.
He will do the same to you as He has done to them.

369

The terror of that crossing has stopped me on the road —
not everyone can cross: its bridge is made of a hair.

On earth and in the sky, the Friend's wisdom is without end;
astonished at His wisdom, He has left me beyond speech.

The cursed one came down to lead the ox astray by guile,
but with a fly, the Truth — Çalap — took the ox from his hand.

The ox stands upon the stone; the fish carries the stone;
the fish is in the water — its foundation rests upon the wind.

Hell is pitch-dark; Hell lies beneath the earth.
For the servant, no further question — He has freed the servant from all questioning.

The one who truly loves the Friend — his strength reaches only to his words.
The one whose strength reaches his words has cast his words from his tongue.

The one who holds the Friend's hem makes a bargain with the Friend.
The one who bargains with the Friend has given the market away.

You have heard: the Son of Mary, on his way to the Friend —
see, in the end, half a needle kept Jesus from the road.

Yunus says: do not say "I truly love the Friend."
Those who truly love the Friend have cast the self from their hand.

370

While I was journeying within myself, I arrived at a wondrous secret — oh!
You too — look within yourselves: I found the Friend in me — oh!

I looked in me, I saw in me the one who is with me as me.
The one who is the soul within my form — I knew who He was — oh!

I sought Him and I found Him. If He is I, then where am I?
I could not tell Him from me — in one instant, I became Him — oh!

Those who say "Form is dust" — my heart does not accept them.
The jewel within this dust — I have carried it to the Presence — oh!

The denier cannot sense it; the souls of the grief-stricken perceive it.
I am the nightingale of the Friend's garden — I came from that garden — oh!

The Beloved is with us, together — not separate by a single hair.
Let distant journeys be for others — I found the Friend nearby — oh!

No ordinary road will take me; I shall not scatter in every direction.
Blessed was this journey of mine — I arrived at a fair station — oh!

I was Mansur in that time — and look, I have come back here again.
Burn my ashes, scatter them to the wind — I said "I am the Truth!" — oh!

Neither shall I burn in fire and dissolve, nor mount the gallows and be strangled.
Until my work is done, I walk — I have come here for the view — oh!

I was poor, and I became rich; existence and space became mine.
From east to west, throughout — I filled the earth and sky — oh!

When I knew myself, I found the God I desired.
My fear lasted only until I found Him — from fear I was set free — oh!

Yunus, who can kill you? The one who gives life takes life again.
The one who rules these souls — I have come to know who He is — oh!

371

From the beginning, there was this fire of Love within my soul.
I would not reveal it — I knew it was the Friend who placed it there.

The one who glossed the four Books found no remedy for Love.
Neither lords nor sultans, neither professor nor judge.

Earth and sky stand firm and do not part; winds blow and do not shake them.
All things become strong when Love is their foundation.

Love was not born of a mother; Love became no one's slave.
By its command, it makes captive every acquaintance and stranger alike.

A thousand times a day I burn — I am content with that fire,
for sweeter than sugar to me is the fire of Love.

Those who are Love's Majnun are free of profit and loss.
They fear neither heat nor cold — so how would they know fire?

From eternity, my thought was "I am the Truth" — my remembrance was Ene'l-Hak,
while yet Mansur of Baghdad was not born.

Love's fire has risen; it has made my soul beautiful.
No one can quench the fire that burns within my soul.

The one who falls into Love's harp — his business becomes blame.
That is why "poor Yunus" has an ill name.

372

The one who gives You his heart forgets both worlds.
He lies — he is no lover — the one whose eye turns from You.

He abandons this passing world, he tends the eternal.
How fortunate his soul — the one who arrives with face shining!

He abandons selfhood, gives his life upon Your road.
Without question he enters Paradise — the one who reaches You, O Sultan.

Whoever passes from this world drinks Love's cup to the brim.
He scatters his soul for Love — the one who gathers the Friend's rose.

What is the soul on the Friend's path — shall the lover not abandon it?
With this one soul, he gains a thousand — the one who gives his soul to God.

He gives his soul in thanksgiving, presses his face to the feet.
He enters the saints' hearts — the one who asks for news of God.

His reason departs, he becomes bewildered, he wanders the world dazed.
His infidelity becomes his faith — the one who gives his heart to Love.

He abandons corrupted deeds, makes the dervishes his business.
He lets the tears flow from his eyes — the one who hears news of the Friend.

He makes his eyes weep, he makes his liver roast.
He makes hearts bewildered — the one who bears Love's mark.

Since you know the world is passing, why do you lie tossing and turning?
Does the one who asks the Friend's way sleep so deeply?

The one who asks "Where is the Friend?" — wherever you say, He is there.
He is in contemplation with the Beloved — the one who is a true lover.

Poor Yunus, be patient with the hardship of this world.
He endures every cruelty — the one who reaches You, O Sultan.

373

Hear, O friends —
dervishes have come to the house!
Let us give our souls in thanksgiving —
dervishes have come to the house!

Whoever sees their face
lowers himself before them.
They speak from the inward science —
dervishes have come to the house!

Dervishes are birds that fly —
they winter on the sea's shore.
How fortunate those heads —
dervishes have come to the house!

Dervishes have radiant faces —
those who see them go mad.
Their inner world is greater than the Throne —
dervishes have come to the house!

From the land of my lord Balum,
sugar drips from their tongues.
By the road of the Friend's garden —
dervishes have come to the house!

Yunus, your servant, has no flock,
has no one, stands alone.
Let our souls be ransom —
dervishes have come to the house!

374

If you have faith and religion, do not scorn the dervishes —
the entire world is longing to see the dervishes.

Moon and sun long for the dervishes' company.
The angels read praises, remembering the dervishes.

Christians come to serve them; the powerful are humbled.
Mountains and stones bow down when they behold the dervishes.

That Glory of the World, Mustafa — that mine of truthfulness and purity —
if you want faithfulness from him, do not wound the dervishes.

If you wound them, they will sigh — they will wither your life's rose.
You will go blind and be led by others, until you learn the dervishes.

The dervish's arrow flies far — before you can cry "Hey!" it strikes the soul.
Do not be heedless — it seizes and holds: do not scorn the dervishes.

Earth and sky say: "By the right of the cloak — may their grace endure!"
For the King has become the cupbearer, making the dervishes drunk.

You may read the four Books that descended from heaven a thousand times a day —
by God, you will not see the Face if you do not love the dervishes.

The fortunate love us; they ask our condition at every breath.
The denier's eyes are blind — they shall not see the dervishes.

Yunus says: this Love came and brought my dead soul to life.
The words "you and I" fell from the tongue — when you see the dervishes.

375

The destination is far on this road — who shall reach it?
The difficulty is great in this state — who shall endure it?

For this road one needs weapons — one needs lack and one needs plenty.
An iron heart is needed — to enter this steep road.

Know that on this road there are many who steal faith.
The blackness of the face of those who follow their desires does not fade.

Know that on this road there stand seventy thousand soldiers of hypocrisy.
A man who has killed the self is needed — one who can destroy that army.

With the catapult of truthfulness, with the stones of repentance —
it was aimed straight and flung: the fortress of the self crumbled.

Whoever has truthfulness in him — know that shame dies in him.
The true man's capital serves both worlds.

The thin Bridge of Sirat — how easy it is on this road!
For the one who goes to the Friend, truthfulness is the remedy.

Yunus, now it is the time of the call — come, let us go into nothingness.
If the eye is worthy, it shall see the Face of God.

376

Love's fire fell upon the soul and melted the heart's fat.
It cut desire's root and burned its garden in flame.

With the pickaxe of wrath, it dug the hearth of torment in the soul.
It struck the knife of grace upon the neck of my self.

With the water of mercy, it washed my heart's house spotless clean.
Through the gate of service, it offered the cup of gratitude.

Whoever speaks ill of us — may God grant them their wish.
The one who intends to strike me — let me fall and kiss his feet.

Whoever throws stones at us — may roses be scattered upon them.
The one who tries to snuff my lamp — may God light his lamp!

The poor heart, by Love's hand — the body was bent double.
Through the gate of repentance, I handed it the staff of faith.

Come now, O poor Yunus — let desire fall from your hand.
My Çalap, allot to us the knife of contentment.

377

The souls of true lovers love only the Friend.
They forget pride and hatred — they surrender their soul to the Beloved.

The true lover heeds no counsel, for counsel is of no use.
He does not settle for advice — he wants to find that Glorious One.

True lovers bear a mark upon their face.
Night and day, the blood of their tears flows without ceasing.

What this whole world loves is this faith and this religion.
By God, without Love, that faith and that religion are not needed.

If you reach its edge — the lover's soul is not separate.
Ask all lovers: hair by hair, he knows it.

First and Last, the Living, the Self-Sustaining — He was the Beloved of the lovers.
If you have reason, reckon it: this age of Love shall pass.

Whoever says "I am a lover" and spends his days in longing —
his eye is veiled: Love's secret has not appeared to him.

Yunus, do not lift your face from the lovers' feet.
Sacrifice a hundred and one souls — there you shall find the Sultan.

378

The saints are an ocean — the lover must dive.
A diver is needed — one who can enter the sea and take the jewel.

And so we became the diver; we took the jewel from the sea.
A jeweller is needed — one who can know the jewel's true worth.

Go, be still — what brokering are you selling?
A man like Ali is needed — one who can reach this secret.

Muhammad knew the Truth; he saw the Truth within himself.
In every place, the Truth is present — an eye is needed that can see.

Ask your provision from God — "We have apportioned" is hidden.
A man who knows himself is needed — one who can wipe the veil from his eye.

I spoke this breath by the authority of the lovers.
A man without miserliness is needed — one who can stand at one station.

Scholars compose books; they write black upon white.
But this book's verse is written in hearts.

Go, O deceitful Sufi — what sanctimoniousness are you selling?
Who besides God can grant the servant's wish?

God's dwelling is in the heart — His signs are in the Quran.
Higher than the Throne, in the soul — the tower of Love's constellation.

So mad have I become that I know not night from day.
Love's arrow has worked its wound within my heart.

Come now, poor Yunus — hold the hem of the saints.
The remedy for all of them was poverty and nothingness.

379

The King of Kings, the Rich —
by His command He gave us the soul.

Fire and water and earth, together with wind —
with these He built the body's foundation.

He created seventy-two kinds of tongue,
and set the Muslim above the rest.

We are Muslim, the community of Muhammad —
You gave us the robes of honour: religion and faith.

The soul is of light — it will mingle with light.
Do not call it shameful if the form becomes mortal.

Because Zachariah took refuge in a tree,
with a saw You had him cut in two.

You fed Job's flesh to worms —
with patience, he too found his remedy.

You made Jacob weep and took his eyes;
Joseph — You made him the sultan of Egypt.

He makes everyone speak for the sake of a lesson.
He makes Yunus speak too — that Glorious One.

380

How long will you nourish this stature and this form?
You fell into the world's pleasure — you forgot the Reckoning.

From earth you were created, and earth again is your place —
what need have those who become earth for these marks?

It is not the wise but the mad who build high palaces —
in the end, every building falls to ruin.

Strive, earn, feed the hungry; win a single heart —
the pilgrimage to one heart is greater than a hundred Ka'bas.

Those who say "I have miracles" and sell deceit to the people —
let them make their own ego a Muslim, if they truly have grace.

Whoever makes their ego a Muslim, whoever walks straight on God's path —
tomorrow Muhammad's intercession shall be theirs.

A hundred thousand prophets may come — there will be no intercession;
woe, if God's grace does not come.

Yunus, now be among the true ones —
the true saints are the pilgrimage of all.

381

Your love took me from myself —
I need You, You alone.
I burn night and day —
I need You, You alone.

I do not rejoice in wealth,
I do not grieve at poverty —
I am comforted by Your love.
I need You, You alone.

Your love kills the lovers,
plunges them into love's sea,
fills them with Your revelation —
I need You, You alone.

I would break the chain of Your love —
I would go mad, I would flee to the mountains.
You are my thought, night and day —
I need You, You alone.

If they kill me,
if they scatter my ashes to the sky —
my dust will cry from there:
I need You, You alone.

The Sufis need their gatherings,
the guilds need the next world,
the Majnuns need their Layla —
I need You, You alone.

I made no place in Hell,
I built no mansion in Paradise —
I wept much for Your sake.
I need You, You alone.

This thing they call Paradise —
a house and a few houris.
Give it to whoever wants it —
I need You, You alone.

If Joseph had seen Your image
even once in a dream,
he would have abandoned his kingdoms —
I need You, You alone.

They call my name Yunus —
with every passing day my fire grows.
In both worlds my purpose is this:
I need You, You alone.

382

The tongueless carry news — the earless shall hear it;
to understand the tongueless, earless word, you need the soul.

Without listening we understood; without understanding we listened —
the true saint's capital on this road is nothingness.

We loved and became lovers; we were loved and became the beloved —
in each new moment of life, who could grow weary of you?

Seventy-two tongues arose, and words fell between us —
we looked with that gaze, refusing neither common nor elect.

O Yunus — the saint is everywhere now, filling earth and sky:
beneath every stone, a Moses son of Imran.

383

From the lamp of counsel a sign appeared —
my soul within my body dragged itself toward that light.

The dragon of my ego turned on me and charged —
without contentment to cry "Halt!" the ground itself will swallow you.

Make contentment your companion; do not follow the ego's desire —
you will reach the truth. You have found your place — stand firm now.

If you do not hold to what they call contentment,
if you follow your ego, you will wander bewildered — go now.

Yunus speaks God's revelation through the poet's tongue —
if there is a jewel in the soul, it has already walked toward God.

384

My life, you deceived me —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?
You left me unable to move —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

All that I had was you;
you were the soul within my soul;
you were my sultan —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

I had set my heart on you;
I gathered flowers, calling them roses;
a stranger, I wept —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

Whoever comes here must go;
the world's business is all a lie;
weep for whoever has lost their life —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

My good and my evil will be written down;
the rope of my life will be cut;
my form will depart and be undone —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

If only you would not abandon me and flee,
if only you would not depart like a caravan,
if only you would not drink death's wine —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

One day I shall be left without you;
I shall be a meal for wolves and birds;
I shall rot and become earth —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

Poor Yunus, do you not know?
Or do you refuse to look?
Do you not remember those who have died?
Ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

385

What is there to laugh at here? Weep, and weep bitterly —
Azrael is chasing you; harsh is the sign of death.

Do not think you will stay here — you will go there soon enough;
you will lie in the grave until you see the Reckoning.

Parted from your wealth and lands, you will rise and go to the grave —
Munkar and Nakir will come and question you severely.

Two angels will descend and stand before you;
they will write your sins and hang the record around your neck.

Your sins will be weighed, then they will lead you to the Sirat —
the Zebani will seize you, and the wailing will be fierce.

Israfil will blow his trumpet and all creation will rise —
bareheaded, barefoot, the crowds will press hard.

Father will flee from son; mother will not look at daughter —
that day is coming to us. Do not forget the Place of Gathering.

Yunus, your sins are many — if you weep, it is right;
tomorrow you will need Muhammad's intercession.

386

Whoever I gave my heart to did not become my friend —
knowing my state, asking my pain, no one was faithful to me.

It was God's decree, perhaps, that the heart loved You —
no one like me was ever so captured by grief.

My complaint is not with love but with my own fate —
whoever does not seek their own road is ignorant, and no true man.

Love is a great robe of honour — Çalap gave it to some;
some others were left deprived, and never knew of love.

Love is a great gaze; the lover's soul is the face of God —
hearts without love are ruins, and never became a city.

It was love that made Nimrod's fire a rose garden for Abraham —
when love's gaze arrived, it became a garden, not a fire.

Earth and sky were created for the friendship of Muhammad —
"Were it not for you" is the proof: without him, earth and sky would not be.

In love there is much affliction — for the one of love, shame is impossible.
Yunus, if you have become a lover, know: in lovers there is no disgrace.

387

O Muslims, the times have turned vile —
the lawful is not eaten; the forbidden has become prized.

No one lends an ear to the Quran when it is read —
the devils have grown fat, and grown powerful.

The forbidden and the leaven have filled the world —
whoever does corrupt deeds has become honoured.

To whomever you bring news of God,
he shakes his head in scorn — and calls himself the one with proof.

The apprentice quarrels with the master;
the son has become "dignified" against the father.

The poor have pulled their hand from humility —
they break hearts, and call it majesty.

The teachers who sit in the Prophet's place
have become a torment upon the people's head.

The Prophet's hadith is no longer upheld —
all creation has grown brazen before God.

Yunus, come — if you are a lover, repent;
the end of sincere repentance is blessed.

388

My life came and went like a wind that blows and passes —
it seems to me just like the blink of an eye.

God is witness to this word: the soul is a guest in the body —
one day it will rise and go, like a bird flown from the cage.

They have likened poor humankind to a farmer —
some grow, some perish, like seed scattered on the ground.

There is one thing in this world that burns my heart and sears my soul —
those who die young, like green wheat cut before its time.

If you visited a sick man, if you gave him a sip of water —
tomorrow it will come to meet you as though you had drunk God's wine.

If you saw a poor man, if you gave him a worn-out rag —
tomorrow it will come to you as though you had drunk God's wine.

Yunus Emre — they say only two remain in this world forever:
perhaps Khidr and Ilyas, who drank the Water of Life.

389

Today I made my secret visible —
I gave my life and found my Beloved.

Soul and heart stand amazed before the Beloved —
with the Beloved I pass my days.

Pain is needed — pain is needed — pain is needed:
who is worthy that I give my remedy to their pain?

I am without place, and so in this world
no one knows my dwelling.

I found the source — what do I need with anything else?
Today I gave my shop to plunder.

I am the ball; I took up the polo-stick and strike —
who shall take this field from this ball?

Earth is mine, sky is mine, the Throne is mine —
see how I have stretched my canopy.

If my name is Yunus, what wonder in that?
Let them read my ledger and my divan.

390

O friends, I cannot say what my soul has plunged into —
I cannot describe with words who has taken my heart.

My heart is full — it will not fit the tongue; the true lover knows the state;
love has given some to be wiped out, and they cannot understand what happened to them.

Those who know the news of love, those who are wrapped in love's pain,
those whose unbelief has become faith — I do not blame their laughter.

Weeping and laughing are the same to the lover; living and dying are the same —
the lover knows wrath and grace as one, and does not know they are grieved.

Love has struck Yunus dumb — Yunus's blood is lawful to love;
let it trample all he has, so he does not see that he has been parted.

391

In the saints' hearts, that Sultan opened His shop —
how many like us alighted there and then departed.

All the saints flew, crossed mountains and plains —
they fell into love's cauldron, boiled and were cooked.

The parable of this world is like a filthy carcass —
the dogs rushed to the carcass, but the Friend of God left it and fled.

Shall I call him a lover, who has not abandoned his life?
Call him a lover who has fallen into the tongue of blame.

Again Yunus was drunk, since he saw Tapduk's face —
perhaps he drank a sip of sherbet from that heart.

392

The ailing nightingale saw the rose's face and made desire —
the lover reached the Beloved — thanks be to God — and made glad tidings.

I was lying in heedlessness when the King cast His gaze upon me —
He said "Wake from sleep!" — He came and made a sign.

Long had He kept this frail one waiting on promises —
He saw the heart's brokenness, seized it, and made it whole.

That beauty came to ask after this stranger's heart —
He mended the heart's fracture, He made a visit of kindness.

See this dervish Yunus — he is called the translator of tongues;
he says: "Through this love, God guided me."

393

I was seeking God — if I found Him, what does it matter?
I was weeping night and day — if I laughed, what does it matter?

I was a ball rolling in the field of the saints —
if I was caught in the King's polo-stick, what does it matter?

In the company of the saints I was a fresh red rose —
I bloomed, I came to hand — if I withered, what does it matter?

Scholars and professors found it in the madrasa —
if I found it in the tavern of ruin, what does it matter?

Hear Yunus, hear — he has gone mad again;
if I dove into the meaning of the saints, what does it matter?

394

Ever since love became my companion on the road,
it became the head that points me toward the Merciful One's path.

It stood over my soul, gathered the army of the Merciful,
struck the land of Satan — what plunder, what pillage!

Love poured into the land of the self, burned whatever it found,
tore down the fortress of pride — great battle was there.

I saw the Friend's face openly, I asked the news of the secret —
He said: "You did not know it hidden — now I have spoken, it is revealed."

The land of the self became ruin, pride became dust underfoot,
the veil and the curtain departed — the Friend appeared before my eyes.

Love became my hand, it showed me the straight path —
thanks be to God that my state grew sweeter than before.

Those who opened their eyes passed through this world,
they reached eternity — their station became the Throne.

These ones stayed here, deceived by the world —
they became liars; all of them became counterfeit.

The dead do not know their state, cannot open their eyes or gather their wits —
poor Yunus Emre's heart has become a wound.

395

With love we were seeking, and again we found that soul —
it had made itself a garment and wears this body as its form.

It has entered form and walks, arranging all affairs —
it speaks again to itself: the jewel and the mine.

This world is a bazaar, forms have become its shops —
having entered this shop, it is the one who sells this mine.

Some worry, saying "All my wealth remains behind" —
but the giver is He, the taker is He; He does not ask what is the loss.

Yunus, now — you are not separate from yourself, nor from the soul;
if you cannot find it in yourself, where will you find it?

396

O you who are deceived by the world — where is your charity and your kindness?
You forgot the afterlife — where is your compassion and your faith?

In whomever there is compassion, mercy is also there —
where now is an open-hearted, true Muslim?

Abraham the Friend came and laid the foundations of the Kaaba,
he brought the knife to his son — where is the sacrifice of Ishmael?

Shaddad built a paradise, Nimrod shot an arrow at the sky,
Qarun was swallowed by the earth — where is just Nushirvan?

Whoever sought, found — their servitude was complete;
he became Sultan of Egypt — where is Joseph of Canaan?

The Messenger ascended the Mi'raj, light rained from sky to earth,
God praised him saying "My Beloved" — where is that Pride of the World?

Abu Bakr and Omar — light drips from their faces;
his breast full of the Quran — where is Uthman ibn Affan?

He rode Duldul, at his waist was Zulfiqar —
the saints opened the faith; where is the Lion of God?

The chosen one of God Almighty, whose grace passed to the Holy Presence —
the Prophet's uncle; where is Hamza the Champion?

Junayd of Baghdad and Shibli and Ma'ruf Karkhi —
they walked this path; where now is that company?

Bayezid of Bistam, who journeyed through the seven heavens —
that sultan of the saints; where is the jewel of the mine?

Their age has passed — the world is the hearth of wrath;
Abu Muslim of Najaf, lord of conjunctions — where?

Win a single heart, then be content and sit at ease —
in the city of Konya they lie; where are those two sultans?

Fakih Ahmed, Qutb al-Din, Sultan Sayyid Najm al-Din,
Mawlana Jalal al-Din — where is that Pole of the World?

That Sayyid Ahmad Kabir — light was granted to him;
his followers all lions, of manly nature — where?

O my Yunus Emre, open your eyes, press your face to the earth,
so they may also say of you: "Where is he of the roasted liver?"

397

In the face I gaze upon I saw my Tapduk's light —
I found my aim today; what do I need with tomorrow?

My tomorrow is today for me — sweet festival and feast for me;
in dreams the call comes to me — hear the tidings.

With the Friend's news, make your self a companion;
tear down — prepare for the Friend — this fortress of the body.

Until one comes into being, no one knew God —
through this body the Friend showed us His face.

I saw the face of the saint, I abandoned doubt —
I entered the Friend's garden; I praise its rose-bed.

The Friend's face is a rose to me — I am a lover, find the way to Him;
I do not lean to the four directions, for I found the man of love.

When the call came from God — "Am I not your Lord?" —
the faithful said "Yes!" and made their covenant.

"They said Yes" was spoken — the denier and the lover were known;
from that moment onward the fools held to their denial.

They came to Yunus complaining of the hand of unbelief —
O my Sultan, true saint, cut and remove their infidel's girdle.

398

The lover made his own blood lawful to the Beloved —
every lover reads his Quran from the Beloved's pattern.

Rather than be parted from the Beloved, better to hang and die —
the lover himself casts the rope around his own neck.

Never does the image of the Beloved leave the lover's eye,
just as Zuleikha gives the sign of Joseph.

This is life for the lover: to die on the Beloved's path —
if they ask, I will tell the lover's proof.

Bilqis and Solomon fell into love one day —
they sought but could not find the remedy for this affliction.

Harut and Marut in the sky — for love's sake they descended to earth;
seeing the face of Venus, they forgot the Merciful.

Do not take love lightly — whomever it strikes,
it topples the sultan from his throne, destroys his household.

Farhad on this path of love held his head to the pickaxe;
Khusraw, from Shirin's affliction, gave his soul to the Friend.

The affair of Layla and Majnun astonishes the people —
Abd al-Razzaq abandoned his faith for the sake of love.

The faithless of the age heap cruelty on Yunus —
when he finds one true friend, he would sacrifice his soul.

399

O companions, O brothers — see what I have done!
I reached the saint, I found the saint, I seized the saint's hem!

My soul was a blind soul, full of "you" and "I" —
I seized the hem of humility; I reached the station!

I came to fear the one God, I grew weary of the false;
with this resolve I went upon my way!

I understood my own state, I watched for the straight path —
I seized the hem of the elders; I reached the Presence!

I removed rancor from my heart — the one who holds rancor has no faith;
O companions, I heard this word from the elders!

If you are a lover, poor Yunus, turn your face to the Presence —
for those who understand, it is a jewel; I sold my word to the assayer!

400

Again I saw Your face, again my heart burned —
Friend, the fire of Your love pressed against my heart.

Whoever sees Your beautiful face, whoever gives their heart to You,
whoever stands in Your service — they neither tire nor weary.

Your essence is a jewel, Your face purer than the sun,
Your word sweeter than sugar — whoever saw it was ashamed.

My heart was a stranger, my liver was roasted —
I saw Your beautiful face, and my inside and outside were adorned.

Yunus Emre, restless, waiting for that beautiful face —
his gaze does not leave You; he went, he was kindled, he burned.

401

Muslims — who has ever seen a lover repent?
Or who has heard of fire falling into the sea and making it smoke?

My King, the fire of Your love fell into the sea of the heart —
marvel at how it boiled and how gnosis ripened.

A hundred thousand Jesuses and Moseses wander dizzied by love —
marvel that the whale of love has swallowed me too.

The servant who has not learned to swim should not enter this sea —
the sea of love is deep; marvel that he sank.

The one who has not learned assaying thinks this jewel is a bead —
he goes and gives it away for nothing; he does not know what he sold.

Whoever does not see the Friend's face clearly here,
tomorrow he will wander dizzied, never knowing what he did.

Here poor Yunus says: our Tapduk is the face of the Friend —
let the one who does not believe this word say what he can say.

402

For one who dives into this sea of love, no ship is needed —
or where shall we find this moment with the companionship?

Do not say "I have no worldly goods" — do not devour this grief;
if you have loved the Beloved, it removes the sorrow in the heart.

If you too could see the Beloved whom I love,
you would not give this advice — you would sacrifice your own soul.

The lover does not heed advice, for advice does no good —
he forgets pride and rancor, abandons and leaves the shop.

Those who are true lovers bear the sign upon their face —
night and day without ceasing, the blood of their eyes' tears flows.

What all the world loves is that faith and that belief —
by God, without love, that faith and belief are worthless.

Yunus, do not lift your face from the feet of the lovers —
sacrifice a hundred thousand souls, and thereby find the Glorious One.

403

Journey, O heart, a while — walk at ease, free, and well;
fear no one, worry for no one — walk empty of grief and sorrow.

If you look at the truth, your self is enemy enough to you —
go now, and with that self of yours, walk in clash and combat.

It is the self that leaves the saint stranded on the road —
what business have you with anyone else? Walk angry at your self.

If you wish to be safe from the evil of this world,
abandon pride and rancor — put on the patched cloak and walk as a dervish.

If you want to be eternally drunk in this world,
carry the cup of love full — walk drunk twelve months of the year.

Do not enter another's garden, do not pick another's rose —
go with your own Beloved; walk hand in hand through the garden.

Do not be a thorn in hearts, do not be raw in gatherings —
what flavor has a raw thing? Come, cook in the fire of love and walk.

Yunus, you speak well now, you expound with your tongue —
rather than selling advice to the people, be a saint and walk well on your path.

404

My heart fell into a passion —
come, see what love has done to me.
I gave my head to the fray —
come, see what love has done to me.

I walk burning and burning,
love has dyed me in blood —
I am neither sane nor mad;
come, see what love has done to me.

I walk from land to land,
I ask after the Friend from tongue to tongue —
who knows my state in exile?
Come, see what love has done to me.

My face is pale, my eyes are tears,
my breast is in pieces, my heart is a wound —
O brother in pain who knows my state,
come, see what love has done to me.

I walk in the land of exile,
I see the Friend in my dream —
I wake and become Majnun;
come, see what love has done to me.

Now I rise like dust from the earth,
now I blow like the winds,
now I rush like the floods —
come, see what love has done to me.

I rush like flowing water,
I cauterize my afflicted liver,
I weep remembering my master —
come, see what love has done to me.

Either take my hand and raise me,
or bring me back to my origin —
You have made me weep enough; make me laugh!
Come, see what love has done to me.

I am Yunus the helpless,
from head to foot I am a wound,
I am a wanderer in the Friend's land —
come, see what love has done to me.

405

I spent the day on nothing —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?
With you I was never rich —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

I came and passed — I did not know,
I did not weep, I did not grieve,
I never said "I shall part from you" —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

I thought you were my friend,
I thought you were faithful to me —
you were a wild stallion; I did not know.
Ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

Where is the trust I placed in you,
the joy and care I lavished on you?
All that I earned remains behind —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

You will go and never come again,
you will come and never find me;
this lordship you will not enjoy —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

Since you will leave me and go,
and enter the grave,
and come there and speak —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

My good and evil will be written,
my life's thread will be cut,
this form will be undone from me —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

Poor Yunus, you will go,
you will make a strange journey,
you will be left with longing —
ah, what shall I do with you, my life?

406

We drank wine from a Cupbearer whose tavern is higher than the Throne —
we are that Cupbearer's drunkards, and souls are His measure.

Our assembly is an assembly where livers are roasted —
a candle burns there, and the sun and moon are its moths.

Whoever burns before that candle, their whole being becomes light —
that fire does not resemble this fire; its flame never appears.

One of that assembly's lovers is Ibrahim Adham —
let there be a thousand ruins like the city of Balkh at every corner.

The breath of our assembly's drunkards is "I am the Truth" —
a thousand Hallaj al-Mansurs, and that is their least madman.

Come, cast one glance at those who drink the wine of love —
see how, for all these years, that assembly's cup turns.

Yunus, these words of yours are meaning for those who know —
the person of perfect mind will believe in this meaning.

407

I climbed the plum tree and there I ate grapes —
the garden's owner scolded me: "Why are you eating my walnuts?"

I put a brick in the cauldron and boiled it with the north wind —
to whoever asked what it was, I tied it and gave its core.

I gave thread to the Weaver — he had not wound it into a ball,
yet he sends word urgently: "Come, take your cloth."

I loaded the wing of a sparrow onto forty mules —
even a pair could not pull it; it was left there just so.

A fly lifted an eagle and threw it to the ground —
it is no lie, it is true: I myself saw the dust.

A fish climbed a poplar to eat pitch pickles —
a stork bore a colt! Look at these words!

I wrestled a man with no hands — the handless one took my foot;
I could not pin him; he humiliated me.

They threw a stone from Mount Qaf —
it fell at noontime and nearly ruined my face.

I whispered to the blind — the deaf one heard my word;
the mute calls out and speaks the words upon my tongue.

I slaughtered an ox — I was rebuked and set it aside;
the ox's owner came and said: "You slaughtered my goose!"

I robbed him — he accused me of slander;
a peddler came and said: "Where is the mirror you took from me?"

I met a tortoise — his companion, a blind hedgehog;
I asked where they were traveling: "Bound for Kayseri!"

Yunus has spoken a word that resembles no other word —
from the hands of hypocrites, meaning veils its face.

408

When I see the Friend's face, the light of my eyes increases —
Paradise does not come into my sight, even if there were a thousand thousand Houris.

The Friend is the light of my eyes, the secret of my heart —
I cannot be without Him for a moment; my soul is alive through Him.

With that Friend is my nightly and daily prayer —
wherever I am, the Friend is there; what do I need with Moses and Mount Sinai?

It is that Friend who grants the needs of all —
go, ask your need of Him; press your face to His threshold.

If you are a true lover, guard well the secret word —
for a single word they cast poor Hallaj al-Mansur into the fire.

Whoever does not understand this word of mine — shall I tell you what they are like?
They are beasts; like them they walk the mountains in herds.

Yunus, if you are a true lover, stand straight without breaking —
the one who goes straight without breaking shall see the Face.

409

Whatever days I have spent in Your cruelty —
the fire of Your love will send my smoke up to the Throne.

The fire of Your love fell upon me — I burn; what grief to You?
My inside has burned to ash — do not look at my outer garment.

Even if You say "Burn and enter the fire," I will not bow my head to another —
I will not turn my face from You, since I have turned my face to You.

Whoever sees my daytime state — even if they are an unbeliever, they burn within;
who knows? Only I know how my nights pass.

My intent is to enter the city and raise a cry and wail —
but again I turn back in fear, lest my enemy hear.

Yunus says: in truth, at last I have become Majnun —
what if you say "Like Majnun"? Then welcome my Majnun well.

410

If you have become a true lover, come, read from the book of love —
if you have opened the eye of the soul, in truth you will find God.

Not every scholar can read this lovers' book,
for it is He who wrote it — from eternity to eternity, He alone endures.

From the face of the Throne, the lover's Beloved never leaves their eye —
they always recite His word, for He is the true jurist.

Sheikh and scholar and jurist — the one who mends a heart finds God;
if you have broken one heart, then go and study for a hundred years.

Yunus, if you have become a lover, if you have found your Beloved —
the one who finds the Beloved: there is nothing that endures besides.

411

What an ocean that appeared from a drop —
see now: is it an ocean, or is it a drop?

Wondrous drop — the ocean is hidden within it;
this hidden secret, ask it now from yourself.

You are the desire of eighteen thousand worlds —
this heedlessness, then, comes to you from yourself.

Come to yourself, find yourself within yourself —
look at yourself; know who is within you now.

Be annihilated, so you may find the pleasure of union —
is this word a dream? Interpret it now.

The veil of light and darkness is all within you —
how long will you say "you, you" and "I, I"? Stop now.

Nearer to you than yourself — seek more, look —
become sultan of the dream-land; interpret it now.

In origin, lover and Beloved and love are one —
though from this one, a hundred thousand appeared.

Even if the mirrors are a thousand, the one who gazes is one —
the seer is one; what appears appeared as a thousand thousands.

It is a raft for whoever desires to drown —
Yunus, become a diver in this sea; plunge in now.

412

This body is a fortress, the mind is the sultan within —
this heart is a treasury, and love has seized it and guards it.

The tongue is the gatekeeper of perception, all of them serving the mind —
it is the mind that makes things, that makes all prosper.

The mind completes its work in the head, perception looks and sees from the eye,
the mind dwells within the heart — those three qualities nourish it.

The mind made the head its throne; thus it knows every affair —
the mindful person in this world does harm to no one.

The head is the king of this body, the head is the throne-hall of the mind —
do not be fiercely angry; for rage is the mind's enemy.

If you rage fiercely, you tether your head to the self;
you fall into the self's condition — where is that mind you raged with?

The mind left, rage arrived — rage seized the mind's house;
now rage is the sultan; it will not show the world to the eyes.

If you act in greed, you remain stuck at what you see;
your self leads you astray — and perception too becomes mortal.

Perception left, greed arose — greed seized perception's place;
wherever we step, sedition grows; the self works again.

Perception dwells in the eye — whoever has it looks and sees;
but greed is its enemy: it drives that sign from the eye.

Faith is the lamp of the soul, the body is the soul's dwelling —
rancor is the enemy of faith; when it comes, it drives faith away.

If you cling to rancor, faith too has left you —
by God, by God's truth, there is no lie in this word.

Yunus, let your love keep growing, let your soul keep burning and smoking —
let the Master keep covering your faults: He is the Sultan of masters.

413

For how many years I lived this life —
I laughed as much as I wept.
Here, death, I have come to you.
I bid you farewell, my world.

I drove my life and spent it,
I sent my soul flying to the Presence,
I drank the sherbet of death.
I bid you farewell, my world.

I walked in health and safety —
fate decreed blame,
death made its sweet reproach.
I bid you farewell, my world.

Those who came have passed — what shall we do?
Come, let us go to the afterlife,
let us abandon this perishable world.
I bid you farewell, my world.

The deeds you did, both good and evil,
those manifold dreams that appeared —
all these troubles are finished.
I bid you farewell, my world.

Night and day I kept remembrance,
I made remembrance, giving thanks to God —
death has arrived, it calls us.
I bid you farewell, my world.

I was a dervish, my Friend,
my aim was toward God —
I stepped upon death's snare.
I bid you farewell, my world.

My companions, my brothers,
my comrades worthy of God —
farewell, my confidants.
I bid you farewell, my world.

O Yunus Emre the helpless,
hold yourself to the true Friend —
there is no remedy for death.
I bid you farewell, my world.

414

You clung fast to this world as though you would not leave it and go,
as though you would not go and lie alone in the dark grave.

You came to this house of tribulation, you were deceived by mortal pleasures,
coveting, as though you would never taste the flavor of God's companionship.

O wretch, open your eyes — close your eyes to this mortal world,
as though you would never whiten your face blackened by sin.

O wretch, do not be heedless — do not think this mortal world is eternal,
as though, when death arrives, you could still swallow your morsel.

The prop has come from the mountain, soul and heart are imprisoned,
Satan has taken all your senses — as though you would never heed counsel.

You scorn the lovers, those whose heart's eye is open —
you have followed the hypocrites, as though you would never come to sincerity.

Yunus, if you implore with your whole self, if you enter the path with sincerity,
if you take the hand and repent — so that you do not remain deprived.

415

The souls of those who truly love the Friend reach the Friend —
the Friend has made them dazed at Him, from eternity to eternity.

They have no rest morning or night — their aim day and night is that Master;
for when love comes, it topples sultans from their thrones.

That saintly king drank the wine of love from the Friend's hand —
therefore his sighs do not cease; separation from the Friend is their wound.

The livers of those souls who say "I am a lover" are roasted —
the tears flowing from their eyes are the blood of their innards.

Those souls who say "I am a lover" bear a sign:
their flesh and skin become pure, and their garments become rough sackcloth.

416

Suddenly the fire of love plundered our souls —
no one can give any description of us.

It lets us look neither at faith nor worship religion —
the fire of love seized us so: it tore down our shop.

From the wine of oneness, we ruined the shop;
we abandoned it all — our profit and our loss.

How can they give a sign? By which road can they ask?
We released from our hands all of it — our religion and our faith.

Neither profit nor loss — let whoever would strike at our soul come;
passing beyond all of it, we found our Sultan.

Our existence is in oneness — we became one, all of us;
it will not let our tongue speak of duality.

Though a hundred thousand tongues came, a hundred thousand souls were left on the road —
a hundred thousand eyes could not see our whirling.

From togetherness our soul — our sorrow has utterly vanished;
the Pure One opens from Himself our mine and our wellspring.

Come, see now what grows from this wellspring, this mine —
we do not part from oneness: we have found our place.

How shall the eyes see? How shall anyone reach?
Beyond both worlds we pitched our pavilion.

Yunus, now go forth — the confession stands in oneness;
no one from this realm can give a sign of us.

417

O my God, if You should question me,
this is my answer to You there — here it is:

I wronged myself, I sinned —
what did I do to You, O King?

Before I came, You said "Wretch!" over my fate —
before I was born, You said "Sinful Adam!"

In eternity You wrote me down as rebellious
and filled the world with the rumor of it.

Whatever You willed, You wrought upon my fate —
wherever I stood, it was You who placed me there.

Did I fashion myself? You fashioned me!
Full of faults — why did You create me so, O Bountiful?

I opened my eyes and saw: the inside of a prison,
the self and desire, full of the Devil within.

Lest I die in prison, hungry,
I ate a few unclean and forbidden things.

Was anything diminished from Your kingdom?
Or did my word overrule Your decree?

Did I take Your provision and leave You in need?
Or eating Your meal, did I leave You hungry?

You build a bridge thin as a hair and say "Cross!" —
and having crossed, "Drink the wine of Kawthar!"

Can Adam cross a Bridge thin as a hair?
Either it snaps, or he leans, or he flies.

Again it is Your grace that lets the servant cross
and, having crossed, drink the wine of Kawthar.

Your servants build bridges as a charity —
and the charity is that they cross them, to walk on.

Then it must be firm there,
so that those who see it say: "Here is the straight path."

You set up scales to weigh my sins —
You intend to throw me into the fire.

Scales are needed by the grocer,
or the merchant, the trader, the perfumer.

Since sin is the filthiest of filthy things,
it is the business of the worthless in Your Presence.

Then why should You open the filth and weigh it?
You ought to cover it with Your grace.

Now You say: "Let me cast you into the fire —
let me see if your evil outweighs by a bundle."

The evil should be forgiven and the good made much —
those who have no good became nothing there.

You are the All-Seeing, You already know my state —
then what need to weigh my deeds?

God forbid, from You — O Lord of all creation —
that You should watch while I burn sweetly!

Was Your vengeance not satisfied by killing me,
rotting me, filling my eyes with earth?

All this fuss over a handful of dust —
what need for it, O Generous Lord of Majesty?

Since the black hair has whitened into white,
release from your hands the passions of this world.

Since from Yunus there never came any harm —
You know, both the manifest and the hidden.

Let there be no further answer from us to You.
This is the word — and God knows best the right.

Colophon

Yunus Emre (c. 1240–1320) is the fountainhead of Turkish mystical poetry — the first major Sufi poet to write in Anatolian Turkish rather than Persian, and the most deeply loved. His Divan of over 400 poems circulated in manuscript for seven centuries before the first critical editions appeared in the twentieth century. The Tatcı edition (2008), which serves as the basis for this translation, is the standard scholarly text, collating five major manuscript families.

This translation is a Good Works Translation, independently derived from the Ottoman Turkish source. No complete English translation of the Tatcı-edition Divan existed before this rendering. The translators have not reproduced or paraphrased any existing English translation; scattered selections by Talat Sait Halman (1988) were not consulted as primary reference. The Ottoman Turkish requires close attention to archaic vocabulary (ışk for the classical Arabic-rooted word for mystical love; uçmak/tamu for paradise/hell in the old Turkic terms rather than the later Arabic loanwords; miskîn as a term of deliberate self-humbling) and to the aruz meter patterns (Müstef'ilün × 4 dominant) which govern the line lengths.

Poems 1–7 of the Elif section translated by Seren (translator-10, 2026-04-25). Poems 8–20, completing the Elif section, translated by Vara (translator-09, 2026-04-25). Manuscript notes: Poem 11 has a one-line gap at the third couplet, marked in translation. Poem 14 has transmission damage at the third couplet. Poem 20 has two stanzas missing from the OCR source, marked in translation. Poems 21–31 translated by Eda (translator-01, 2026-04-25): Poem 21 (Çe section, -aç/-eç rhyme, tree meditation); Poems 22–31 (Ra and following sections, varied rhyme schemes: -gör, -gelür, -maz/-sar, -dür, -var/-haber, -var, -gider/-şer, -dür, -olan kimdür, -benümdür). Poem 29 engages directly with the ship/ocean metaphor for law vs. inner reality; Poem 31 is an ecstatic spiritual sovereignty declaration (Sufi concept of the perfect human containing all divine reality). OCR note: source lines for Poem 23 use a shorter hemistich pattern; beyit structure preserved in translation. Section boundary markers in the source: ÇE at line 895 (Poem 21), RA at line 937 (Poem 22 onward); precise section boundaries for later poems require further source review. The Divan contains over 400 poems across all letter sections. Continuation expected — next translator begins at Poem 32 ("Nisâr ol 'âşık cânına ki dostıla visâli var"), at approximately line 1330 of the source file.

Poems 32–43 translated by Neva (translator-04, 2026-04-25): Poem 32 (sacrifice to the lover who has union, -var rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 33 (leave fear of death — the soul is eternal, -dür rhyme, 10 beyit, includes Quranic Kālū Balā allusion); Poem 34 (body as instrument of the soul, -dür rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 35 (give away your possessions, death approaches, -gider refrain, 7 beyit); Poem 36 (seven rhetorical questions — "Can one who has not... be a lover?", -mıdur refrain, 7 beyit); Poem 37 (union and separation — knowledge as veil, -nedür rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 38 (shari'a and haqiqa — the ship and sea metaphor, -mediler rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 39 (leave form and image, the road is within the soul, 9 beyit); Poem 40 (the Men of God who did not cling, sustained M-alliteration across all first hemistichs, 7 beyit, includes Hallaj/Mansur and Majnun allusions); Poem 41 (self-accusation — tongue speaks knowledge while heart loves the world, 9 beyit); Poem 42 (the divine origin of speech — words come from the Creator's voice, not the poet, -gelür rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 43 (the Friend who is always present — no journey needed, 5 beyit). The Divan contains over 400 poems; continuation expected.

Poems 44–55 translated by Riku (translator-03, 2026-04-25): Poem 44 (seeking the master of the work — Judgment Day imagery, -dur/-dadur rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 45 (love as great fortune — vision and restlessness, -olur rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 46 (the city of the body with seven gates — gelür refrain, 10 beyit, Majnun/Layla and Ishmael allusions); Poem 47 (burning heart — love's pen, Gabriel as veil, Azazil's false claim, -durur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 48 (God's sovereignty — 1001 names, Throne/Footstool/Tablet/Pen, 124,000 prophets, 6,666 verses, 15 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 49 (the famous "One moment" poem — heart's wild oscillations through Moses/Pharaoh/Jesus/Gabriel, -olur rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 50 (fish and sea — love as ocean, Tapduk Emre named, -dur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 51 (Friend within the soul — indebted to an ant, -vardur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 52 (soul of my soul — Paradise as prison without the Beloved, Cercis allusion, -yok durur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 53 (captive of the heart-charmer — the Omnipotent One seen here, not tomorrow, 6 beyit); Poem 54 (God is everywhere — treasure in the ruin, Sinai in the heart, Çalap, -dadur rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 55 (separation and the nightingale — tears of blood, lover's burden heavier than mountains, -aglar rhyme, 6 beyit).

Poems 56–67 translated by Kaze (translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 56 (rhetorical interrogation of the false lover — twelve -nedür questions probing the gap between claim and practice, 12 beyit, Hallaj al-Mansur allusion); Poem 57 (code for gnostics — let them not mix pretense with sincerity, -mayalar negative subjunctive refrain, 9 beyit, Adam/wheat/Paradise allusion); Poem 58 (defense of the semā' whirling dance against scholarly critics, Mevlana named, -olur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 59 (love as the King's treasury — the cup at the Feast before time, -dur rhyme, 6 beyit, Bezm-i Ezel/pre-eternal covenant); Poem 60 (apocalyptic — end times, lords eating the poor, the Antichrist rising, -olısar rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 61 (the Friend is within — closer than the soul, the journey is inward, -durur rhyme, 11 beyit, longest in batch, Çalap); Poem 62 (the land of unity — Joseph's beauty, walking without feet, Fe'ülün × 4 meter, -yalar rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 63 (humility as the key to seeing the Face of God — "one who says 'I know' shall not know," -olısar rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 64 (the saints' pre-eternal homeland — Mevlana Hudavendgar's gaze as mirror, Hasan of the Deer-fold, -dur/-sıdur rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 65 (omnipresence — love's first vigor undiminished by age, Çalap, -dadur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 66 (love resembles a sun — stone hearts, the bellows of Divine Power, silver from the crucible, -benzer rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 67 (seven seas of the ruined ones — Mansur's hair-thin gallows, the Beloved holds the rope, Fâ'ilâtün × 4 meter, varied rhymes, 9 beyit).

Poems 68–79 translated by Tsugi (translator-01, 2026-04-25): Poem 68 (love named after every kind of suffering, -mışlar rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 69 (the great city parable — this world as a market with three exits, -benzer rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 70 (the arrow of love that passes through stone — the gnostic who passes beyond phantom and dream, -geçer rhyme, 8 beyit, radical verse on passing beyond even the Houris); Poem 71 (the famous "Let us see what God does" hymn — Allah görelüm n'eyler refrain, Mef'ūlü Mefā'ilün meter, 13 stanzas of surrender, Majnun allusion, one of the most quoted poems in Turkish literature); Poem 72 (O King — death nearer than yourself, the questioner in the grave, saints who swim in the lake of love, -durur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 73 (love overflows no matter how guarded — the Beloved's self-disclosure in manifold colours, -gelür rhyme, 9 beyit, Müstef'ilün × 4 meter); Poem 74 (the graveyard meditation — pearl teeth dissolved, golden hair fallen, shroud wrapped around bones, -yatur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 75 (fire of love — what it does, Mansur allusion, the afflicted calling to one another, -eyler rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 76 (bitter indictment — children of Adam enslaved to the self, lords who know not the poor, -mışdur rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 77 (VR section — the inner moon that never wanes, mercy rains from the earth, His own light praises itself, varied rhymes, 8 beyit); Poem 78 (separation torment — love's army, the Tatar enemy is nothing beside this captivity, the sultan who sells sinning servants, -beter/-tüter rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 79 (the long road with deep waters and no crossing — let the laughers laugh, there are madmen here, -var rhyme, 7 beyit). Continuation expected — next translator begins at Poem 80.

Poems 80–91 translated by Mizu (translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 80 (the saints drink poison as wine — streams that cannot reach the ankle wage war on the sea, -ider rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 81 (praise of Muhammad — the Prophet's sweat becomes flowers, Tapduk Emre named again in the maqta, -idür rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 82 (the great graveyard walk — estates, warriors, scholars, brides all lying in the earth, sustained -yatur refrain across 9 beyit, one of Yunus's most powerful memento mori poems, Çalap twice); Poem 83 (enter the gate of the heart — greed/pride/envy/hypocrisy named and expelled, sincerity as the cleanser, -zer/-zar rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 84 (the charter of dervishhood that the muftis have not read — humility as prerequisite, aspiration of saints as a pillar from earth to sky, -dür rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 85 (refrain poem — "dem evliya demidur" / "this is the time of the saints," 5 beyit with repeated second-hemistich refrain, Israfil and 124,000 prophets); Poem 86 (a hundred thousand kinds of love — the Merciful and the Accursed both as types, the Four Companions ranked with Abu Bakr chief, -dür rhyme, 7 beyit, Çalap); Poem 87 (the departure poem — "gider" / "gone" as sustained refrain, eight beyit cataloguing the vanishing of all worldly bonds, the dervish alone finds the Truth here not hereafter); Poem 88 (refrain poem — "Tanla seher vaktinde tur" / "Rise at the dawn's hour," Müstef'ilün × 2 shorter meter, 9 quatrains, dawn prayer, roosters, birds, Houris, Kevser wine, Çalap, closing self-address); Poem 89 (the great theodicy interrogation — 9 beyit of questions to God: what is the veil, what is punishment, who writes on the Tablet, what is "Be!" if You also destroy, -nedür rhyme throughout, one of Yunus's most intellectually daring poems); Poem 90 (the love catalogue — love appearing in Majnun/Layla, Jacob/Joseph, Jesus, Moses, Mansur, Junayd, Mefâ'ilün Mefâ'ilün Fe'ülün meter, 12 beyit, "rend the robe of your body and plunge into the ocean"); Poem 91 (the most famous poem in Turkish literature — knowledge is self-knowledge, the four Books' meaning in a single alif, better than a thousand pilgrimages is to enter a single heart, 5 beyit). Continuation expected — next translator begins at Poem 92.

Poems 92-103 translated by Tsuchi (translator-01, 2026-04-25): Poem 92 (love-fire rends the liver, stones hurled for the Friend, all the world comes as kin, -gelur rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 93 (the lover's condition — sighing and lamenting, blood-price is the Face, helpless Yunus scattered on the road, -olur rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 94 (paradox questions — what is Solomon to this kingdom, what is the ocean within the sea, what dies unborn, -nedur rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 95 (the great theodicy — nightingale/rose, Layla/Majnun, Farhad, King Abraham, then sustained catalogue of God's unequal dispensations, golden words become counterfeit coin for fools, Mefa'ilun Mefa'ilun Fe'ulun meter, -eyler rhyme, 13 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 96 (dervishes tend to go mad — what you laugh at comes upon your head, those who abandon the world tend to see the Face, -olagan olur refrain, 6 beyit); Poem 97 (dervish sovereignty — the dog of the ego, the famous "even if the world were Paradise, for dervishes it becomes a prison," -olur rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 98 (refrain poem — "Dostun cemalin arzular" / "it yearns for the Friend's face," 3+1 quatrain form, 6 stanzas, the heart's progression from wanting horses and robes to wanting only the Face); Poem 99 (eschatological catalogue — who wears rough cloth here wears silk there, who lies with the Houris is who committed no adultery here, sustained -mayandur/-meyendur rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 100 (na'at/praise of Muhammad — Mustafa as joy of earth and heaven, Intercessor, water-bearer of the Eight Paradises, Mefa'ilun meter, -Mustafa'dur rhyme, 7 beyit, ZA section); Poem 101 (the famous "we need the Face" poem — we do not need the world, the dawn, the Kevser, the cure, the dwelling-place; Yunus fallen drunk calling to Tapduk, Mefa'ilun meter, -gerekmez rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 102 (the power of a single word — can end a war, turn poison to honey, make Hell into eight Paradises, brand the soul, -ide bir soz refrain, 7 beyit); Poem 103 (God fills the world — "this is a bridge: cross it," the famous Hadith of Jesus, "let us love and be loved," -maz/-mez rhyme, 6 beyit). Continuation expected — next translator begins at Poem 104.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

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Poems 104–115 translated by Kawa (translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 104 (the heart that abandoned its owner for the Friend, -maz/-mez rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 105 (world as bride, death as lion, strip naked for the road, -yamaz/-yemez rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 106 (the great self-accusation — "I am the worst of all," drank wine for fasting, listened to the kopuz for prayer, seven seas of ink, Konya's minaret as a needle, -uz/-üz rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 107 (unity — "I am Your instrument," the paradox of selfhood, Mefâ'ilün Mefâ'ilün Fe'ülün meter, -lmaz/-lmez rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 108 (third "gerekmez" poem — no interpreter needed, slay the ego's dog, Çalap, -gerekmez rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 109 (didactic — don't grieve over sustenance, Çalap's command, a gossip worse than a swine, -maz/-mez rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 110 (the ineffable state no learning reaches, die before death, "the form that has not been annihilated cannot reach its King," Çalap, -maz/-mez rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 111 (fourth "gerekmez" poem — the dervish manifesto: tongueless to curses, handless to blows, humility as sole capital, -gerekmez rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 112 (if tongue, heart, eyes, and reason are aligned, the enemy has no power; Muhammad's gift of making a place in hearts, -maz/-mez rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 113 (the wound with no cure, lovers don't die, arena higher than the Throne, Mefâ'ilün Mefâ'ilün Fe'ülün meter, -lmaz/-lmez rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 114 (ecstatic declaration — "no one knows us," beyond all categories, Müstef'ilün × 4, -yuz/-yüz rhyme, 4 beyit); Poem 115 (one in a thousand takes the path of the Merciful, -girmez rhyme, 5 beyit). Çalap appears in Poems 108, 109, 110. Tapduk Emre does not appear in this batch. The "gerekmez" form now spans Poems 101, 108, 111 — Yunus's systematic stripping of everything not needed. Poem 106 is the most radically antinomian poem in the Divan: the self-accused saint who drank wine for fasting and listened to the kopuz for prayer beads, who read a book no pen wrote, whose words reveal Konya's minaret as a needle. Poem 107 is a masterwork of theological precision on divine instrumentality. Poem 113 closes with the same couplet as Poem 107 — "Yunus has drowned... his mind cannot revive" — confirming these as a paired meditation on love and unity.

Poems 116-127 translated by Watari (translator-03, 2026-04-25): Poem 116 (the antinomian community declaration — "our community is from another nation," seventy-two nations, worship without Kaaba or mosque, -ümüz rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 117 (the great hypocrisy self-diagnosis — Sufi in appearance, hollow inside, "a thousand-year swindler falls short of me," one of Yunus's most devastating self-portraits, -itmez/-gitmez rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 118 (love's envoy returns — ecstatic assembly, Solomon/Layla/Majnun/Farhad catalogue, the Friend found everywhere, -umuz rhyme, 9 beyit); SIN section: Poem 119 (silk and sackcloth equal to the lover, hang the ego, -palâs rhyme, 5 beyit); ŞIN section: Poem 120 (interrogative wonder — what is soul, blood, property, Solomon, you, I? Tapduk Emre named, -neyimiş rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 121 (the ocean of the heart — hidden page, inexhaustible mine, the shop locked by pride, -ımış rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 122 (God speaks in reported speech — "let the servants make ready," nine instructions ending in "He has said," -dimiş rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 123 (refrain poem — "derviş olubilsem derviş" / "if only I could become a dervish," Çalap, sustained longing, 7 beyit); Poem 124 (the ant and Solomon — parable, the subtle path, "I read the four Books and when it came to love it was one great syllable," -inceyimiş rhyme, 12 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 125 (the Friend hidden beside me — the cure was the pain, human nature IS God, unity IS the world, -ımış rhyme, 7 beyit); GAYIN section: Poem 126 (the Beloved free of everything — faith, disbelief, sultan, speech, "become ashes through dervishhood," -fârig rhyme, 10 beyit); KÂF section: Poem 127 (death meditation — washing-board, collarless shroud, headless horse, kin returning home laughing, -ıcak rhyme, 9 beyit). Tapduk Emre named in Poem 120. Çalap in Poems 120 and 123. Section markers crossed: SIN (before 119), ŞIN (before 120), GAYIN (before 126), KÂF (before 127). CRITICAL DISCOVERY: The Tatcı edition contains far more than 129 poems — the source file continues past poem 400. Previous estimate of "~129 poems total" was based on a misreading of the edition structure. The actual Divan is significantly larger.

Poems 128-139 translated by Fumi (translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 128 (gratitude for seeing the Friend, vision of the Truth in all directions, Yunus as gatekeeper, -ak rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 129 (farewell poem — "I shall not... anymore," sustained -mez+em ayruk refrain, exchange of existence for nothingness, diving in the sea of Love, 10 beyit); Poem 130 ("read one page of love" — against bookish scholars, Abdurrezzak's radical renunciation, the cross-kissing saint, -ak rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 131 (universal love — seventy-two nations, Friend's friends, hidden treasure, -ik rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 132 (beauty of the Beloved — fourteenth moon, honey-mouth, thirty-two pearls in coral, the cypress, the moth, Yunus sees the Truth's manifestation, -ak rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 133 (microcosm — Torah/Gospel/Psalms/Quran, Sinai/Israfil, counting 1–9, we found it all in the body, -uk rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 134 (the Mi'raj narrative — Chalap sends Buraq, Gabriel announces, the stone leaps, Uveys turns the sandals, bedding still warm, longest narrative poem in the Divan so far, 17 beyit); Poem 135 (sustained meditation on selflessness — to see the Friend's face, 19 stages of stripping existence, Mansur's "I am the Truth," a sight beyond language, longest philosophical poem so far, -ek/-gerek rhyme, 19 beyit); Poem 136 (didactic — duties of the Muslim, five daily prayers mapped to spiritual transformation, -gerek rhyme, 11 beyit); Poem 137 (the road of repentance — this world a house of grief, the narrow bridge, give wealth for God's sake, Quran citation, -mek gerek rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 138 (Judgment Day — Israfil's trumpet, Arabic as the tongue of reckoning, love as the nearest thing of all, -gerek rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 139 (guest and homeland — the pre-eternal covenant, journey home, the lover's mark is speaking of the Beloved, -gerek rhyme, 7 beyit). Chalap appears in Poem 134 (narrative context — first non-didactic use). Mansur appears in Poem 135:7 (model/proof function). KEF section boundary at source line 5649 (before Poem 135). "Millet" (seventy-two nations) motif in Poem 131:5 (continuing from 116, 125). No Tapduk Emre in this batch. Didactic register (Poems 136-139) marks a shift from the ecstatic/antinomian poems of the previous batches — Yunus the public teacher alongside Yunus the mystic.

Poems 140–151 translated by Kōun (translator-03, 2026-04-25): Poem 140 (the dervish instruction — come to discipline, eat barley bread mixed with ash, break your fast every third day, drink poison for sherbet, -gerek rhyme, 8 beyit, most purely ascetic poem yet); Poem 141 (what shall we do with this world — Çalap created it for tribulation, find a guide-friend here for the roads tomorrow, Paradise's capital is a single heart, -gerek rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 142 (dervish purity — clean living, clean reputation, seventy-two nations motif again, the dervish who fears neither Hell nor hopes for Houris, -arı gerek rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 143 (the great plunder poem — "we gave the soul to plunder," sustained -yagmâya virdük refrain across 9 beyit, the merchant who seeks no profit, the naked traveler, faith and disbelief both plundered, time itself given away, most radically antinomian poem since 116); Poem 144 (address to the Beloved — whatever word I speak my tongue speaks You, jinn/fairy/human/angel all love You, poison from Your hand is nectar, honey without You is venom, Müstef'ilün × 4, varied rhymes, 7 beyit); Poem 145 (na'at/Muhammad praise — Çalap created Muhammad's soul from light, mercy rains on the world, seventy thousand prophets in his lake, Ali the Lion of God at his right, Hasan and Husayn at his left, Yunus Emre is a lover and a wretch, 7 beyit); Poem 146 (portrait of the lover — sallow cheeks, wet eyes, burning liver, grave for bed, stone for pillow, his face sweeps the Friend's road, daily battle with the self, Mi'raj of the heart, Müstef'ilün × 4, -âşıkun rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 147 (the water meditation — "O water, where do you come from?", addressed to water as a living being, humble yet omnipresent, neither dead nor alive, clouds carry you, trees drink you, Yunus thirsts and says "one sip is worth a thousand gold coins," 9 beyit, one of Yunus's most original nature poems); Poem 148 (interrogative — "what is X to you?", ten sustained nendür questions stripping away form, world, worry, falsehood, treasure, drunkenness from the love-cup vs. sobriety, Müstef'ilün × 4, -nendür senün rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 149 (dervish sovereignty — they rule from Kaf to Kaf, sultans are their captives, the Mi'raj narrative retold with dervishes as hosts, Muhammad knocks and asks "Who is there?", God says "I called them Mine," dervishhood as a craft with wild beasts in its cloak, 10 beyit); Poem 150 (lovers' covenant — the cup of love, the moth in the flame, the Throne as promenade, Paradise as the ascetic's reward but a prison for lovers, service to the perfect sheikh, Fâ'ilâtün × 3 + Fâ'ilün meter, -âşıklarun rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 151 (servant and king — "the servant cannot be without the king, the king is not without the servant," pre-eternal mutual necessity, LAM section begins, divine unity as the road that leads to you, universal speech from one mouth, the mind as witness to the chain of particulars, 9 beyit). Çalap in Poems 141, 145. Mi'raj in Poems 146, 149, 151. Seventy-two nations in Poem 142. No Tapduk Emre in this batch. LAM section boundary at source line 6368. Next translator begins at Poem 152, source approximately line 6414.

Poems 152–163 translated by Rasa (translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 152 (the heart's journey through life — from father's loins through birth, childhood, youth, middle age, old age, death, and afterlife, sustained -düşdi gönül refrain across 16 beyit, the longest life-journey poem in the Divan); Poem 153 (the guest at dawn — brevity of life, the Scales, the Bridge, eschatological warning, 8 beyit); Poem 154 (fifth "gerekmez" poem — "we do not need the world," the believer's prison, hypocrisy condemned, 7 beyit); Poem 155 (leave this world's adornment — cut the head of pride, kill desire, the Straight Path, 9 beyit); Poem 156 (dervishhood as a state within a state — includes "Ene'l-Hak" defense: "if the dervish says 'I am the Truth,' what wonder — all being belongs to the Truth," Mansur normalized, 6 beyit); Poem 157 (do not give advice to the loveless — black stone soaked fifty years, the gray sparrowhawk, the falcon's nature, the Sun of Both Worlds, 8 beyit); Poem 158 (hearts that hold meaning shall never die — crystal heart, Khidr and Elias, the cup at the spring, 8 beyit); Poem 159 (ethical instruction — do not spy on faults, do not eat five fingers at once, do not add words, 8 beyit); Poem 160 (journey-to-the-Friend refrain poem — "Come, let us go to the Friend, O heart," 10 quatrains, Müstef'ilün × 2, before Azrael attacks, one of the most tender poems in the Divan); Poem 161 (address to the heart — leave corruption, find contentment, walk the straight road, 5 beyit); Poem 162 (dervishhood is not cloak and crown — the heart's dervishhood, 4 beyit, shortest poem in this batch); Poem 163 (your saying "I" is not the root — seventy-two nations share one Beloved, the language of birds, Tapduk Emre named, 7 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 156 (normalization/defense function — "what wonder is it?"). Çalap does not appear in this batch. Tapduk Emre named in Poem 163 (maqta — "Tapduk's Yunus"). "Millet" (seventy-two nations) motif in Poem 163:3 (running count: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163 — inclusive/universalist use). "Gerekmez" form in Poem 154 (running count: 101, 108, 111, 154). MIM section boundary expected near Poem 168 (source line ~7086).

Poems 164–175 translated by Tsuki (translator-03, 2026-04-25): Poem 164 (the mystery is not a common person's work — give your heart to one, Tapduk falcon maqta, -degül rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 165 (sustained "kayusı degül" apophasis — 13 beyit stripping every concern from soul to caravan, ending "what need have I for Moses? I have reached the station"); Poem 166 (the devastating ethics poem — "if you once broke a heart, your prayer is not prayer, not even seventy-two nations can wash it clean," 6 beyit, most quoted couplet in Turkish literature); Poem 167 (see no one as empty — dervishes are Huma birds not owls, 5 beyit); MIM section opens: Poem 168 (the great cosmic autobiography — Yunus present at every moment of sacred history: Job, Solomon, Jonah, Zachariah, Noah, Moses, Abraham, Ishmael, Joseph, Jacob, Muhammad's Ascension, Uveys, Mansur's gallows, Ali's sword, Omar's justice, Hamza's battlefield, 12 beyit); Poem 169 (PAIRED with 168, same opening line — the mystical autobiography: pre-creation ocean, love's lamp, hidden within hiddenness, the Quran with the Master, Paradise with Ridwan, star among angels, God's secret words, "I was He and He was I," 11 beyit); Poem 170 (rhetorical -nemdür negation — what is doubt, what are eyes, what is the Friend to me? Nine fathers four mothers, the illiterate one named by God, 7 beyit); Poem 171 (exile poem — the alif/ba teaching, "my crime before seventy-two nations is that I said God," "I am Mansur, I came to the gallows, I scatter as ashes," bird language, 12 beyit); Poem 172 (compressed pre-existence — 124,000 elect, 444 degrees, "both here and there," 5 beyit); Poem 173 (sovereign boast — "I shall make the secret naked," Azrael's assault turned to his prison, a hundred thousand Gabriels, newborn-naked manifesto, 8 beyit); Poem 174 (sustained -mazam negation — I cannot abandon, cannot endure, cannot give my heart to the Houri, cannot reach the secret, cannot go beyond Him, 7 beyit); Poem 175 (bird language — "my language is the language of birds, my land is the Friend's land, my rose does not wilt," Moses at Sinai, 6 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poems 168 (solidarity — on the gallows-rope with him) and 171 (self-identification — "I am Mansur"). Tapduk Emre in Poem 164 (falcon maqta). Seventy-two nations in Poems 166 and 171. Bird language in Poems 171 and 175. MIM section boundary at source line 7086 between Poems 167 and 168.

Poems 176–187 translated by Kavi (translator-01, 2026-04-25): Poem 176 (self-realization — "when I knew myself, I found God," the fear resolved, slave-to-sultan, -oldum rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 177 (cosmic identity — "the one who gave the heart to love, that is I," sea of love, lightning, rain, Çalap's remembrance, Gospel and Quran in one voice, covenant of Alast, Müstef'ilün × 4, -benem rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 178 (journey from Eternity — Sinai, Bayezid, Alast, Adam's garment, Ene'l-Hak, Mansur, Majnun/Layla, sovereignty, 13 beyit, the longest -geldüm poem in the Divan); Poem 179 (the merchant of hearts — "I came here to go," duality exchanged for unity, nightingale in the Master's garden, 6 beyit); Poem 180 (divine sovereignty — Solomon's Seal, decree over all, "He is I and I am He," neither idol nor cross nor religion, Müstef'ilün × 4, -tutaram rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 181 (journey to the source — four companions (soul, religion, faith, self-the-enemy), twelve rivers, the Ocean, Azrael dismissed, the saints' lineage, seventy-two tongues, -geldüm rhyme, 11 beyit); Poem 182 (death and return — Cercis killed seventy times, Ene'l-Hak never abandoned even after a thousand years in earth, the shroud torn, rising from the grave, -gelem rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 183 (the apophatic praise — a thousand years not exhausting a mote, checkmate of all minds, the sea without shore, "these words are not mine," -meyem rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 184 (deathbed-to-grave refrain poem — 19 quatrains, "God, I have stretched out my hand to You," the most sustained eschatological poem in the Divan, from tongue-breaking through shroud, bier, funeral, burial, Munkar/Nakir, Bridge of Sirat, seven Hells and eight Paradises); Poem 185 (sacred autobiography — Mi'raj with Muhammad, the forty saints' shirt, the lancet miracle, Adam before Eve, Moses, Jesus, Ibrahim Edhem, Abdurrezzak, Mansur on the gallows, Omar al-Khattab, before the Tablet and Pen, -benem rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 186 (prayer to Çalap — "my God, my God, there is none like You," seven uses of Çalap in -Çalab'um refrain-rhyme, the highest concentration in any single poem, entering the hearts of the humble, "burn me in love's fire," 7 beyit); Poem 187 (the most complex Mansur poem — 13 beyit, cosmic identity, river/ego-siege/Abraham's fire, the CROSSTRUTH couplet: "I spoke 'I am the Truth' with Mansur AND fastened the gallows-rope to his neck," lover and executioner as one, Mi'raj, Ishmael at Arafat, builder and destroyer, -benem rhyme). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poems 178 (self-identification, gallows), 182 (Ene'l-Hak in earth, never abandoned), 185 (companionship/gallows), 187 (the crosstruth — BOTH speaker and hangman). Çalap in Poems 177 (remembrance), 186 (7× prayer). Cercis in Poem 182. Seventy-two tongues in Poem 181. No Tapduk Emre in this batch. No new section boundary — still in MIM. ~218 poems remain.

Poems 188–199 translated by Fushi (伏詞, translator-02, 2026-04-25): Poem 188 (the taken heart — 7 beyit, "I do not know what I became," sustained -mazam/-mezem negation rhyme, Ene'l-Hak in the cup from the saints, love's drunkenness as permanent state); Poem 189 (love's wine — 6 beyit, companion to 188, ocean-sea/jewel-mine/wonderstruck, "since I received the sign of union — I do not linger for Paradise," pre-eternal name); Poem 190 (soul-sacrifice — 8 beyit, the longest -rısam poem, Azrael cannot reach the lover, "Your eternal atom," pre-Alast love, "before I came into the world, my soul had loved You"); Poem 191 (the great prophet-journey — 16 beyit, -geldüm rhyme, third major pre-existence autobiography after 168/178, Adam's sneeze from the clay, Job's worms, Zachariah bored through the tree, Cercis trampled/Mansur hanged in one couplet, Muhammad's Mi'raj — "from end to end I came rubbing my face alongside him," ending "Yunus was hidden all along — I came changing forms"); Poem 192 (ecstatic unknowing — 8 beyit, "I went mad and do not know," the famous "I emptied and filled but with what I filled I do not know," "now I know that I do not know," the sheikh who found God through the sheikh); Poem 193 (the great sovereign I — 14 beyit, the longest -benem poem in the Divan, "I am the First, I am the Last," cosmic creation catalogue from "Be!" through mountains/heavens/snow/animals/Four Books/Quran, "the one before me is You — the one who sees You in You am I," Rustam, Hamza over Qaf, "it is not Yunus who says this — it is His own self that speaks"); Poem 194 (companion sovereign I — 7 beyit, -benem rhyme, Kaaba/idol/faith all in one, lightning/serpent/sultan, flesh/bone/cradle, "my name is Yunus: the ocean am I"); Poem 195 (the eternal sultan — 10 beyit, -benem rhyme, seven climes, Creation/Flood/Joseph/Solomon/Moses/Adam, "I am the worshipper, I am the worshipped," Tapduk Emre named in maqta); Poem 196 (from eternity with the Friend — 11 beyit, -geldüm rhyme, the nightingale to the Rose/Muhammad, "before Power had fashioned form" pre-existence, "like the first sun of spring, I came surging and rising"); Poem 197 (the aspiration poem — 7 beyit, -eyleyem rhyme, saints' grace, earth for bed/stone for pillow, war on the ego, "let me make my inside dervish"); Poem 198 (death walks among us — 9 beyit, -ölüm refrain, death as garden-clipper, third major death poem after 74/82, golden hair on the washing-board, henna in the earth, mothers made Majnun, "death swallows even the dragons"); Poem 199 (disease and cure — 5 beyit, -benem rhyme, "my fire reduced Mansur to ashes — on his tongue I said 'I am the Truth' — the rope around his neck am I," Joseph's beauty/Jacob's grief, Nimrod's form/Abraham's fire, "the Beloved of the soul am I"). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poems 191 (Cercis-Mansur paired couplet — hanged like cotton of the carder), 199 (the TRIPLE: speaker/fire/rope — "my fire reduced Mansur to ashes, on his tongue I said 'I am the Truth,' the rope around his neck am I"). Çalap does not appear in this batch. Tapduk Emre in Poem 195 (maqta — "I will name Tapduk to every tongue"). Seventy-two tongues in Poem 196:6 (different from seventy-two nations). Cercis in Poem 191 (paired with Mansur). Ene'l-Hak in Poems 188:7 (saints' cup), 192 closing (through the sheikh), 197:5 (aspiration — "let me encounter it"). Poems 193–195 form a sovereign-I triptych: 193 (14 beyit, cosmic), 194 (7 beyit, companion), 195 (10 beyit, eternal sultan with Tapduk seal). Still in MIM section. ~206 poems remain.

Poems 200–211 translated by Kusa (草, translator-03, 2026-04-25): Poem 200 (invitation to journey — "O heart, show us grace, let us wander together," 8 beyit); Poem 201 (the longest poem in the entire Divan — 45 beyit, sovereign-I from pre-eternity through all creation, Mansur QUADRUPLE in couplet 35: "I am the gallows, I am the crowd, I am the hanged one, I am Mansur," Tapduk/Saltuk/Barak triple lineage in couplet 41); Poem 203 (explicit Malamati reference); Poem 205 (Cercis paired with planetary imagery); Poem 207 (fourth graveyard poem — earth swallowing); Poem 208 (Tapduk in maqta — interrogative); Poem 210 (fourth death poem — earth-and-worm); Poem 211 (sovereign-I divine boast — "I am the beginning and the end," 9 beyit). Mansur in 201 (quadruple). Tapduk in 201, 208. Cercis in 205. Still in MIM section.

Poems 212–223 translated by Tsuchi (土, translator-01, 2026-04-28): Poem 212 (sovereign-I divine boast — "I abandoned all conventions, took the path of Unity," Israfil, Gabriel, Michael all claimed as I, Throne-mace, 8 beyit, -benem rhyme); Poem 213 (ocean/nightingale journey — "let me drown, let me walk on," letter mysticism alif/mim/dal, 6 beyit, -yüriyem refrain); Poem 214 (love's inextinguishable fire — "twelve months of the year it burns inside me," patience insufficient, 9 beyit, -mez benüm rhyme); Poem 215 (faithfulness despite cruelty — Houris rejected for the Beloved, 5 beyit); Poem 216 (divine possession — "He has so beguiled me: what else could I bind myself to?", closing: "It is He who calls me Yunus — what is this I?", 6 beyit); Poem 217 (pre-existence journey with Mansur — "I have set up the gallows and come," Light-as-Jesus, resurrection, 7 beyit, -geldüm rhyme); Poem 218 (eschatological refrain — "let us go to the Holy Place," "die before death comes to you," Mefâ'ilün × 2, 6 quatrains); Poem 219 (absolute faithfulness — "I shall not turn my face from You," antinomian: "if You say enter the church, I shall enter," Jesus/Moses/Joseph all named, 5 quatrains); Poem 220 (exile and cosmic parentage — "my fathers are called seven, my mothers I know as four," seven prisons, -aram rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 221 (retrospective self-accusation — "my first name was Yunus, I pinned the name lover to myself," shame among lovers, 6 beyit); Poem 222 (ocean/Khidr/self-battle — I became a Tatar to my own self, pickaxe against the fortress of ego, 11 beyit, longest in batch, -zer oldum rhyme); Poem 223 (pre-existence — "before this world I was one with the Beloved, a signless Light," "Say: He is God" quality, before Pen struck Tablet, 5 beyit, -idüm rhyme). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 217 (gallows-builder — "I set up the gallows and come," extending the construction motif from 201's quadruple). Çalap does not appear in this batch. No Tapduk Emre in this batch. Cosmic parentage (nine fathers/four mothers) appears in Poem 220 (cf. Poem 170). Still in MIM section. ~182 poems remain.
Poems 224–235 translated by Tama (珠, translator-02, 2026-04-28): Poem 224 (cosmic autobiography — "The One who sent me here knows what work I came to do," speaker identifies with Idris, Shith, David, Moses, Ali, Jesus, moon, rain, sun, "becoming the Truth on Yunus Emre's tongue, I came to fall upon the lips," -geldüm rhyme, 11 beyit); Poem 225 (self-accusation — "O you who call me dervish — what is dervish to me? All my work is wrong," dervish cloak as empty garment, "not half a coin's worth of substance" inside, -benüm rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 226 (insatiable longing — "if the seas were one cup, my thirst would not be quenched," MANSUR CUP function: "Again Mansur's cup was offered by the Beloved into my hand — they struck fire from all four sides," Farhad/Shirin allusion, -maz/-mez benüm rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 227 (cage of the body — "Do not think I came of my own accord," pre-existence mystery, soul yearning to escape flesh, "I am a strange mixture," -mişem rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 228 (prophetic seeking — Fâ'ilâtün meter, "I am Job... I am Jacob... I am Joseph... I seek," each couplet identifies with a prophet's crisis, Khidr and the Water of Life, -isterem rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 229 (NUN section opens — short devotional promise, "you shall see the Sultan one day," seeker=river/guide=sea, -birgün rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 230 (assembly invitation — Mefâ'ilün × 4, "let whoever says 'ours' come... let whoever risks life and head come," "the learned ones could not read it," -gelsün rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 231 (THE GREAT FAREWELL — 5th death poem after 74, 82, 184, 198, "We are leaving this world — peace be upon those who remain," systematic farewell blessing each participant in the death rites: the washers, the shroud-wrappers, the prayer-standers, the grave-layers, "let those who do not know us be: peace be upon those who know," -selâm olsun rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 232 (intoxicated eye — Mef'ülü Mefâ'ilün meter, "The eye that has seen You — why should it gaze elsewhere?", nothingness as the quarry, the bankrupt lover, -itsün rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 233 (pre-existence cosmology — "I came from before the beginning," Muhammad's light created 70,000 years before Adam, 124,000 souls within the soul, "God Himself fell in love," echoes Poems 169 and 220, 10 beyit); Poem 234 (3rd Paradise-rejection poem after 52 and 97 — "Give that to the pious — I need You, only You," "I have no desire for Paradise," "my sigh is for the Face," -içün rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 235 (address to the nafs — Mefâ'ilün × 4, self-referential close, "You give counsel to the people — why do you not hold yourself to it?", sustained -mazsın rhyme, 9 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 226 (CUP function — receiving Mansur's cup from the Beloved, new functional role). No Tapduk Emre in this batch. No Çalap in this batch. NUN section opens at Poem 229. Still in MIM/NUN transition. ~170 poems remain.
Poems 236–247 translated by Sōgen (宗元, translator-01, 2026-04-28): Poem 236 (passing beyond religion and nation — the lover without sect or creed, "wash the slate of existence," -tuyan/-sayan rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 237 (dervishhood invitation — "let whoever comes with love come," the cloak of blame, -gelsün refrain, 6 beyit); Poem 238 (quatrain form — "what do they want with the mortal world when the love of God exists?", murabba' with "Allah sevgüsi var iken" refrain, 5 stanzas); Poem 239 (dervish road catalogue — the inexhaustible mine, the eye that sees without looking, the ear that hears without lip or tongue, the hand that reaches east and west at once, paired with 237 via -gelsün refrain, 9 beyit); Poem 240 (gratitude to Çalap — "I reached my purpose today, I saw my master's face," love's tent raised in the Friend's garden, -bugün rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 241 (death meditation — "I shall die one day," five spans of cloth, snake and scorpion, the grave caves in, "I shall come to my Master one day," -birgün rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 242 (THE SEVEN GATES POEM — unique allegorical journey through the city of the Truth: surrender at the first gate, two lions, three dragons, four elders, five monks selling wares, a Houri's temptation at the sixth, the Seven saints at the seventh who say "You are free," Ene'l-Hak sherbet from the Friend's hand, closing revelation: "not outside the body — find it all within yourself," 17 beyit, longest poem in this batch); Poem 243 (pre-existence cosmology — "the wheel of heaven did not exist when our souls were," Çalap's love in the soul before Adam and Eve, wine of light, neighbours on the mountain of light, before sky or earth, 9 beyit); Poem 244 (love's fire — reason flees, day and night burning, "who has not been broken wrestling with love?", Fâ'ilâtün meter, 5 beyit); Poem 245 (the great love catalogue — "by the hand of love" sustained refrain: Ibrahim Edhem's throne abandoned for the furnace-house, Mansur's head on the gallows, Majnun bewildered by Layla, Zulaikha lamenting Yusuf, the nightingale's laughing tongue, Mefâ'ilün meter, 10 beyit); Poem 246 (worldly warning — "this world is a serpent that swallows men," the falcon's trapped bird, "hold fast to the saint's hem," -birgün rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 247 (self-knowledge — "what is greater than that a person should know himself?", the road terribly long, the world a snare, "let him follow the saints' trail," 6 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 245 (gallows, love-catalogue function — alongside Ibrahim Edhem, Majnun, Zulaikha, nightingale). Ene'l-Hak in Poem 242 (sherbet at the seventh gate — "I am the Truth" drunk from the Friend's hand). Çalap in Poems 240 (devotional gratitude, pir's face) and 243 (pre-existence, soul-love before Adam). No Tapduk Emre in this batch. NUN section continues from Poem 229. Still in NUN section. ~158 poems remain.

Poems 248–259 translated by Shizuka (静香, translator-01, 2026-04-28): Poem 248 (polemic against scholars — "you recite 'without partner' then add a partner," learning means self-knowledge, knowledge without practice is sin, the jurist vs. the poor one, "worse than a beast," -atarsın rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 249 (cosmogony — one jewel, seven earths from its light, seven skies from its steam, seven seas from its drops, mountains from foam, Muhammad from compassion, Ali from grace, Yunus drunk from that sea, 5 beyit); Poem 250 (allegorical instruction — twelve chambers, seven gates, two beauties within, antinomian allegory: "kill your brother, divorce your wife," the heart's inner king, -asın/-esin rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 251 (dying before death — paradox of preventive death/burning, moral accounting, seek the saints, Muhammad called this world a prison, -magıçün rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 252 (Love's land interrogative — sustained -mısın questions, the garden whose sherbet is poison, no moon or sun, abandon existence and enter nothingness, "are you in the water or the earth?", 6 beyit); Poem 253 (aspiration poem — "bir zamân" sustained refrain, pearl-diver in love's ocean, MANSUR on the gallows of union, Majnun/Farhad/Abdurrezzak, casting off the I to sense God's fragrance, sultan after slavery, Luqman's wisdom, sacrifice on the perfect guide's road, Müstef'ilün × 4, 9 beyit); Poem 254 (love's sweetness and secrecy — love before earth or sky, pre-eternal feast, incomparable to any thing, love as trust not to be spoken in common places, jeweller's rule, Yunus speaks love's tongue without ceasing, 8 beyit); Poem 255 (seventy-seven veils — the aspirant who desires without preparation, Joseph-as-sultan-desiring-Canaan, wing unfeathered yet desiring flight, 30 veils in the eye + 30 in the heart + 10 unknown, be patient like Job, -arzü kılursın rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 256 (address to God — drowned in God's knowledge, cannot know self or reach His attributes, First and Last, madness from not-seeing, "do not part me from You," soul entrusted to none but God, plea to lift the veil, -mezin/-mazın rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 257 (interrogation of the Beloved — sustained -mısın questions, sultan/soul/Bilqis-Solomon/Joseph/Jesus/Farhad/Ibrahim Edhem/Pride of the World, the dead come alive at the sight, the sun eclipses, birds swoon, 9 beyit); Poem 258 (self-accusation — Mefâ'ilün meter, life wasted for nothing, "no one has done to anyone what I have done to myself," gems sold for a broken shard, pretense forgotten sincerity, poison called honey, sins many yet "I have turned my face toward His court," -mışam/-mişem rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 259 (burning vision of the Friend's face — plundering of faith, lovers beyond self-command, hidden treasure in the ruin, the eye of certainty fixed on the Friend, burning love that will not let the tongue be still, Müstef'ilün × 4, 8 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 253 (ASPIRATION function — "Let me become Mansur, let me cry 'I am the Truth,' let me hang on the gallows of union for a moment"). No Tapduk Emre, no Çalap in this batch. Still in NUN section. ~146 poems remain.

Poems 260–271 translated by Shizuka (translator-02, 2026-04-28): Poem 260 (the Orphan Pearl — dürr-i yetim, ocean-in-a-drop, Mansur with Ene'l-Hak + gallows, yā-nūn-sīn wordplay on the name Yunus, sultan of the sultan, 7 beyit); Poem 261 (address to the Divine You — 'sen olasın' refrain, death-as-life, the lover's soul does not die, 7 beyit); Poem 262 (from the hand of this love — 'bu ışk elinden' sustained refrain, crown-to-dust, nightingale lament, prophets captive, TAPDUK in maqta, 10 beyit); Poem 263 (exile poem — ÇALAP twice, ring composition, home as thorns / exile as rose garden, 6 beyit); Poem 264 (radical antinomian — beyond Islam and faith, love's border-guard, the ledger of existence washed, name and sign unmentioned, 9 beyit); Poem 265 (warning to the denier — saints' arrows pierce through rock, 5 beyit); Poem 266 (TAPDUK speaks directly — 'this love must reach the Truth,' the Friend walks within the marketplace, heart-vs-eye dialogue, 6 beyit); Poem 267 (self-interrogation — '-maz mısın' refrain, counterfeit goods / true goods, 6 beyit); Poem 268 (bewilderment prayer — four schools transcended, seven Hells / eight Paradises rejected, MANSUR self-identification, 'hang me,' 9 beyit); Poem 269 (annihilation prayer — 'give me love that I may not know my selfhood,' MANSUR on the gallows, rose that never wilts, 8 beyit); Poem 270 (the overflowing heart — exile interrogative, snowy mountains as brigands, clouds weeping, 7 beyit); Poem 271 (the famous Plunder poem — 'yagmâ olsun' refrain, systematic surrender of soul/shop/doubt/place/remedy/world/garden/court/hive, tribe of No-Place, honey of honeys, 8 beyit).

Poems 272–283 translated by Kawa (川, translator-01, 2026-04-28): Poem 272 (Day of Judgement lament — murabba', 'aglaşalum ol gün içün' refrain, 6 stanzas, earth splits/sky cracks/innocents aged); Poem 273 (God's grace — 11-beyit prophetic catalogue: Abraham/Nimrod, Joseph/merchants, Jonah/whale, Muhammad/Mi'raj, David/Solomon/Qaf-to-Qaf, Korah/wealth, Azazil/Throne, Job/patience, the most sustained use of Quranic exempla in the Divan); Poem 274 (eschatological anxiety — 'n'ideyin ben' refrain, 5 beyit, Hell-as-dwelling, the narrow grave); Poem 275 (confessional — murabba', 'ben n'ideyüm n'eyleyeyin' refrain, 7 stanzas, seventy thousand executioners, Hell shaking, the lovers reach their goal while the sinner's face is black); Poem 276 (death meditation — 'birgün' refrain, 8 beyit, the wooden horse = funeral bier, stripped naked, snakes and scorpions, Munkar and Nakir); Poem 277 (THE EXILE POEM — one of Yunus's most famous, murabba', 'şöyle garib bencileyin' refrain, 7 stanzas, wandering Anatolia and Damascus, the stranger found dead three days later, washed with cold water, the grave as the only place to find a companion in exile); Poem 278 (searching for the heart — 7 beyit, geographic catalogue: Kayseri/Tabriz/Sivas/Nakhchivan/Maraş/Shiraz/Baghdad, the heart in neither faith nor belief, 'divândasın' = divine madness); Poem 279 (didactic admonishment — 14 beyit, longest in batch, Mefâ'ilün meter, rose-not-thorn, world-as-poison, wingless bird, bridle the ego); Poem 280 (spiritual autobiography — 9 beyit, each second hemistich ending verb + 'ben,' the dry tree by the roadside, 'One glanced at me — I became fresh and young'); Poem 281 (path instructions — 8 beyit, come without soul, sacrifice one to find a hundred thousand, taste love and pass beyond outward religion, 'this road has no end'); Poem 282 (hymn to God — 6 beyit, 'sensin' refrain, prophetic catalogue: Abraham/Jacob/Joseph/Moses/Jesus, shortest poem in batch); Poem 283 (optative prayer — 7 beyit, sustained subjunctive, 'let me plunge/spread/gather/pour/become,' maqta self-awareness: 'you have not lived the lovers' life — at least let me sing their songs'). No Mansur, no Tapduk, no Çalap in this batch. NUN section continues. ~122 poems remain.

Poems 284–295 translated by Tsuki (月, translator-02, 2026-04-28): Poem 284 (death/departure — "Do not part me from You, O Creator," bird-flight, sultan/servant, sheikh's threshold, -olam/-ölam rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 285 (eschatological anxiety — "I fear that I shall die," sins found, shame flung in face, refuge in God's forgiveness, -olam rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 286 (love's plunder — "whatever must come, let it come from now on," sustained -bundan soñra refrain, tears of blood, palace of annihilation to palace of permanence, drop-to-ocean, 7 beyit); Poem 287 (MANSUR DEFIANCE — "I have become like Mansur today — let whoever hangs me come forward," sustained -gelsün berü challenge-refrain, Ene'l-Hak proclamation, Hidden Treasure, warrior-martyr-slayer triple, 9 beyit, one of the most confrontational poems in the Divan); Poem 288 (Mansur as PURPOSE — "cân maksüdun Mansür'ıdur" / "the soul's purpose is Mansur," gallows as destination, annihilation-to-light, -gelsün berü refrain continuing from 287, 6 beyit); Poem 289 (Mansur SELF-ID on love's road — "Today I am Mansur on the road of love: I walk and I spin before that gallows," nightingale/moth/Majnun triple imagery, exile closing, 9 beyit); Poem 290 (THE FAMOUS "cândan içerü" — "I love You deeper than the soul," 13 beyit, sustained -içerü rhyme, the deepest apophatic poem in the Divan: deeper than sultan/sun/cure/religion/faith/sign, Solomon deeper than Solomon, Hakikat and Ma'rifat deeper than Sharia and Tarikat, "what infidelity is this, deeper than faith!"); Poem 291 (death-journey — "O Friend, O Friend!" refrain, Azrael/wooden horse/shroud/Majnun/dust/diver, 7 beyit); Poem 292 (el-hamdülillah thanksgiving — "praise be to God" sustained refrain, BABA TAPDUK — first time Tapduk called "Father" in the Divan, "we scattered Father Tapduk's meaning," descended into Rum, raw-to-cooked, 8 beyit); Poem 293 (ethical instruction — backbiter/slanderer/tale-bearer condemned, "whoever digs a well for another shall fall in himself," 6 beyit); Poem 294 (love's fire — cane-juice/sugar, raw-to-cooked, moth/candle, pre-eternal love, TAPDUK AS "ışk sultânı" / sultan of love, 9 beyit); Poem 295 (THE FOUR GATES TREATISE — 30 beyit, longest poem in this batch and one of the longest in the Divan, systematic exposition of Sharia/Tarikat/Ma'rifat/Hakikat as four stations, each gate examined for what it demands and what falls short, closing: "Tapduk watches for Yunus within this sainthood," TAPDUK in maqta). VAV section boundary between Poems 284 and 285. HE section boundary before Poem 292. Mansur al-Hallaj in Poems 287 (DEFIANCE — confrontational "come forward"), 288 (PURPOSE — the soul's aim), 289 (SELF-ID — "I am Mansur on love's road"). Ene'l-Hak in Poem 287 (proclamation). Tapduk Emre in Poems 292 ("Baba Tapduk" — first paternal title), 294 ("sultan of love"), 295 (maqta — "watches for Yunus"). No Çalap in this batch. Bird language in Poem 290 (Solomon deeper than Solomon). ~110 poems remain.

Poems 296–307 translated by Kawa (河, translator-01, 2026-04-29): Poem 296 (finding God through the saint — the Ka'ba is your threshold, "I was a lake — the saints cast their gaze and I became a sea," Fâ'ilâtün × 3 shorter meter, -ile/-ıla rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 297 (the Beloved and destruction — chained captives, "He does not build you up until you are destroyed," -ınca/-ince rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 298 (Seven Signs for reaching the Truth — four revealed, three hidden for those who ask in private, -lara/-lere rhyme, 7 beyit, "gerekmez" in couplet 2); Poem 299 (THE GOLDEN RULE POEM — "the heart is Çalap's throne," "whatever you think of yourself, think the same of others — that is the meaning of all four Books," sustained -ısa/-ise rhyme, 8 beyit, Çalap twice, one of the most famous and most quoted couplets in the Divan); Poem 300 (proverbial/didactic — friendship better than kinship, few words are the saint's ornament, "too many words are a beast's burden," -ısa/-ise rhyme continuing from 299, 10 beyit); Poem 301 (THE KOPUZ DIALOGUE — the stringed instrument speaks: "my origin is wood, my strings are sheep-guts; Love gave me my name," pivots from instrument defense to the Noble Scribes recording angels on both shoulders, Mevlānā's gathering, "not separate from the mystic is this kopuz at the feast," -şde/-şte rhyme, 13 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 302 (THE GREAT PARADOX POEM — "I found what I sought openly within the soul," 18 beyit, sustained -içinde rhyme, the thief IS the watchman, the executioner IS the spectator, "the one reading the Quran is Himself — He Himself is within the Quran," fasting/prayer/pilgrimage as veils for lovers, one of the most extraordinary mystical poems in the entire Divan); Poem 303 (companion to 302 — "Be soul within soul," fasting/prayer/alms/pilgrimage called "crime and offense" for the elite, Sharia as guardian of Truth's army, Yunus becomes Majnun in certainty, -içinde rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 304 (the dervish's way — "led by a single hair," stand unmuddied when the world grows turbid, each saint came in their own state, -ile/-ıla rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 305 (18,000 worlds within the One — "You shall not see Me" to Moses on Sinai, 90,000 words with 30,000 secrets, the mystic gives no sign, "It is manifest to those who see: there, within the heart," -içinde rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 306 (ESCHATOLOGICAL — Israfil's trumpet, the scale of judgment, the Bridge thinner than a hair, "for the lover, no fear, no shame" on the Day, -ıla/-ile rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 307 (love's power — Harut and Marut brought down from heaven, "our ablution is our prayer, our worship is sincerity," love's fire paling Yunus's face, -ura/-ire rhyme, 6 beyit). Çalap in Poem 299 (twice — the throne couplet). Mevlānā named in Poem 301. Harut-Marut in Poem 307. No Mansur, no Tapduk in this batch. Still in HE section. Poems 302–303 form the most sustained antinomian pair in the Divan — formal worship explicitly called a "veil" and "crime" for the mystic elite. ~98 poems remain.

Poems 308–319 translated by Kotoba (言葉, translator-02, 2026-04-29): Poem 308 (lovers and the Friend — palace without the Friend is a prison, -ara rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 309 (prophetic journey — go with your pain until you reach the remedy, Abraham/Ishmael/Job/Jacob/Joseph, -irişince rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 310 (SOVEREIGN-I — "I am without place in this world," identity catalogue: Job/Cercis/Joseph/Mansur/lion/nightingale/deer, Cercis in couplet 2, Mansur in couplet 3 self-identification: "I am Mansur — I came to this gallows," Muhammad's light, -anda rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 311 (eschatological warning — Muhammad as foundation, good deeds while hands still reach, grave-questioners, Azrael, Çalap in maqta as AUTHOR/SOURCE: "it is God — it is Chalap who gave the dye to our tongue," -umuza rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 312 (spring renewal — sustained -yine refrain, mercy/feast/new robes/resurrection of herb and tree, nightingale and rose, lovers' draught, 8 beyit); Poem 313 (THE MILL ALLEGORY — world=mill, grain=humanity, miller=Azrael, lower millstone=earth, upper millstone=sky, hopper=heedlessness, flour-bin=grave, unique sustained allegory in the Divan, -ene/-ane rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 314 (saints' pledge — "Gel ikrâr it erenlere" refrain across 9 quatrains, wiping rust from hearts, before the soul-bird takes flight); Poem 315 (dawn prayer — "Tur irte namâzına" refrain, second dawn prayer poem after Poem 88, birds/trees/muezzin, 7 quatrains); Poem 316 (vanitas — Abraham vs. Korah, Israfil's trumpet, a thousand Solomons could not answer a single ant, -maya rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 317 (CRITICAL — "Ben ol idüm ol ben idi" / "I was He and He was I" in couplet 7, tearful gnostic's counsel, TAPDUK AS INTERCESSOR AT JUDGMENT DAY in maqta: "I shall not remember Yunus at all: Tapduk shall come and plead for me in that hour," -ile rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 318 (Friend dwelling in the soul — whoever finds the Friend inside needs nothing else, love as mirror, selfhood abandoned, old men become young, -anda rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 319 (charter of meaning — "biz tapduk" wordplay on the verb tapduk/Tapduk Emre's name, hidden treasure, ducks and geese on the lake, -ümüze rhyme, 7 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 310 couplet 3 (self-identification within sovereign-I catalogue). Cercis in Poem 310 couplet 2 (co-occurrence with Mansur, cf. Poem 191). Çalap in Poem 311 maqta (new register: AUTHOR/SOURCE — God as the one who dyes the tongue). Tapduk Emre in Poem 317 maqta (new function: INTERCESSOR AT JUDGMENT DAY — Tapduk comes to plead for Yunus when the trumpet sounds). "Ben ol idüm ol ben idi" (317:7) — one of the most quoted pre-existence declarations in Turkish Sufi poetry. Still in HE section. ~86 poems remain.

Poems 320–331 translated by Kawa (河, translator-01, 2026-04-29): Poem 320 (sovereign address to the Divine You — signless/unmarked state, pre-existence: "when earth and sky did not yet exist, the lovers were already worshipping," Israfil's trumpet, madness in maqta, 10 beyit); Poem 321 (na'at — Muhammad praise, foot on the Throne, miracles on stone: "Ta, Sin, Ya" letters appeared, stone spoke "You are the Messenger of God," poison turned to sugar, 7 beyit); Poem 322 (refrain poem — murabba', "come, let us burn with the friends" sustained refrain, quest for remedy, world has no faithfulness, 6 stanzas); Poem 323 (divine sovereignty — all treasuries God's, Iblis and Satan as stationed servants, unity declaration: "in the presence of one who says 'Unity' there is no saying 'you and I'," 9 beyit); Poem 324 (dervishhood bestowed — silver purification, musk from breath, nightingale-to-francolin, shortest poem in batch, 5 beyit); Poem 325 (love's wine and the saint's hem — BIRD LANGUAGE in maqta: "it is the language of birds: what can he do? — it is not heard until the bird sings," 7 beyit); Poem 326 (prophetic conditions — sustained conditional: without Adam's obedience / Noah's thousand years / Ishmael's sacrifice / Moses's shepherding / Muhammad's character, God will not show His Face, 4th PARADISE-REJECTION: "He will not burn them in Hell; they will not bow their heads to His Paradise," 8 beyit); Poem 327 (the great impossibility poem — sustained "one must" aspiration refrain, TAPDUK EMRE in maqta: "bring a man like Tapduk — one who has never come into the world" — IMPOSSIBILITY function: Tapduk as unrepeatable miracle, die-before-death in penultimate couplet, 8 beyit); Poem 328 (love's madman — the invisible omnipresent God in tavern and bathhouse furnace, thief-prisoner paradox: "He calls His servants 'thieves' and imprisons them; when He sends rescue, He is there in the prison too," 8 beyit); Poem 329 (sheikh devotion — love's fire, sheikh's face as sole need, rust wiped from hearts, making the heart spotless for the Friend, 7 beyit); Poem 330 (pain and dervishes — love as remedy within, trap for the soul: "how do they hunt love?", the impossible hunt for birds that never alight, 7 beyit); Poem 331 (the devoted lover — "love on the tongue is cheap; those who know love are few," abandon both worlds, brevity as authority, 6 beyit). Tapduk Emre in Poem 327 (IMPOSSIBILITY — "one who has never come into the world," new functional role). Bird language in Poem 325 (maqta — running count: 171, 175, 290, 325). Paradise-rejection in Poem 326 (4th after 52, 97, 234). No Mansur, no Çalap, no death poems, no gerekmez, no millet in this batch. Still in HE section. ~74 poems remain.

Poems 332–343 translated by Haru (春, translator-02, 2026-04-29): Poem 332 (sovereign diver — "I bathed in love's water," diver of the ocean of love, knower within knowledge, -içinde rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 333 (universal friendship — "we hold no enemy," strangers as friends, desolation as home, turning toward God opens a road through the sea, -bize rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 334 (sultan and nightingale — the Beloved enthroned on the soul, humility topos in maqta: "hand upon hand," -üstine rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 335 (THE GREAT BIRD CATALOGUE — 20 beyit, longest poem in this batch and one of the longest in the Divan: spring → bird typology through social typology → owl/falcon/partridge/vulture/parrot → the famous "what good is knowledge and deeds if you have broken one heart?" → the Great Court where a thousand proud ones cannot match one stranger's kindness → Ibrahim Edhem and the old rag → Dhul-Qarnayn with Khidr and Elias → -ile rhyme); Poem 336 (ship-and-sea — sustained "do not say" refrain, love as restless sea, the ship sinks, do not say "I dived or did not dive," -dime rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 337 (friend vs. enemy — the Friend's station within the soul, no enemy can breach it, sultans helpless, -maya/-meye rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 338 (the journey within — hair by hair, the road passes through the heart, "wherever I go my self goes with me," duality prevents union, SEVENTY-TWO NATIONS: "the feet of seventy-two nations must be kissed," -ile rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 339 (cosmic search — searched Throne/Tablet/Pen/earth/sky, "found Him in no place: found Him within the human being," the Face beyond words, fanā: "Yunus Emre was annihilated," -içinde rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 340 (death meditation — snake/scorpion/ant upon the tongue, heirs quarreling over possessions, humility topos: "hand upon hand above mine," -üstine rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 341 (prayer instruction — dawn ablution, five daily prayers, "do not call the non-prayer a Muslim," didactic register, -işe/-aşa rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 342 (moon vision — Muhammad's light, Paradise window, the dry tree and the fire, the felt cast upon the water, -ice/-aca rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 343 (NIGHTINGALE REFRAIN POEM — "Söyle bülbülcügüm söyle" / "Sing, my little nightingale, sing," 11 stanzas of 4 lines, spring/separation/flight/grief, "they took your young from the nest — they drove you mad," folk-poetry quatrain form). No Mansur, no Tapduk, no Çalap in this batch. Ibrahim Edhem in 335. Dhul-Qarnayn/Khidr/Elias in 335. Seventy-two nations in 338 (running count: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163, 338). Still in HE section. ~62 poems remain.

Poems 344–355 translated by Suzu (鈴, translator-01, 2026-04-29): Poem 344 (na'at — hymn to the Prophet Muhammad, "yâ Resüla'llâh" refrain, lovers burning with love, intercession, Muhammad as sun of both worlds and sultan of both worlds, 6 beyit); Poem 345 (separation and Çalap — dawn breezes, Çalap as cupbearer, the madness-cup, Kevser's pools, Tuba's branches, the purified wine, "whoever goes there does not return," ÇALAP returns after 32-poem absence: "Hak Çalap'um" × 2, 9 beyit); Poem 346 (wake-up call — "where were you, O madman?", caravan has passed, mortality, serving tyrants vs. serving God, 7 beyit); Poem 347 (Love's challenge — "ışk n'eylesün senünile" / "what shall Love do with you?" refrain, filthy inside and out, false dervishhood, die before death, 6 beyit); Poem 348 (the cost of the Friend — self-abandonment, Love plunders the city of the soul, the tavern of Love, "the eye of form cannot see," 9 beyit); Poem 349 (antinomian prayer defense — "they say I do not pray," only the Truth knows infidel from believer, coquetry accepted at the Court, "I know myself," "cook the Truth's feast — let the gnostics taste my salt," 10 beyit); Poem 350 (death poem — Azrael as sentinel, the trust recalled, body emptied, grave-tightness, "the harp of final regret," 6th death poem in the Divan, 7 beyit); Poem 351 (THE FOUR GATES — the great didactic poem: Sharia/Tarikat/Ma'rifet/Hakikat, four gates × forty stations × one hundred and sixty resting-places, "the Law is hard, the Way is steep, Gnosis is rugged, Reality is the summit," degrees of sainthood, "this elder of poets," 14 beyit — one of the longest poems in the Divan); Poem 352 (rhetorical question poem — "degül mi" / "is it not?" refrain, crow and nightingale in one cage, mystic vs. scholar, SEVENTY-TWO NATIONS returns: "the gnostic knows the speech of seventy-two nations," 7 beyit); Poem 353 (Love's merchant — Ibrahim Adham, silk to rough wool, MANSUR RETURNS after 48-poem absence [longest in Divan]: "When Mansur saw, he said 'That is I' — they burned him," warning: "do not say 'I have seen' — they drag to the gallows the one who says 'I have seen,'" MANSUR functions: SELF-ID + WARNING, 11 beyit); Poem 354 (encounter with the Beloved — heart and soul both claim servitude, war between them, not Khidr yet found immortal life, lion tamed by Love's chain, "a single spark touched Yunus and he became known throughout the world," -oldı rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 355 (THE CREATION POEM — jewel before earth and sky, mist → sky → stars, earth suspended on water, mountains as anchors, Azrael fetches clay, four angels knead Adam, Adam's first sneeze and first speech: "You made me exist from nothing — with Your Power's tongue You made my tongue speak," -eyledi refrain, 10 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poem 353 (SELF-ID + WARNING — breaks 48-poem silence since Poem 310). Çalap in Poem 345 (×2, returns after 32-poem absence since Poem 311). Seventy-two nations in Poem 352 (running count: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163, 166, 171, 255, 338, 352 — 10th occurrence). Ibrahim Adham in Poem 353. Khidr/Elias in Poem 354. Death poem in Poem 350 (6th: 74, 82, 184, 198, 231, 350). Still in HE section. YA section boundary at source line 15216 (before Poem 348). ~50 poems remain.

Poems 356–367 translated by Seiryū (青龍, translator-02, 2026-04-29): Poem 356 (THE IBLIS/ADAM CREATION EPIC — Çalap makes Adam from clay, Satan refuses to bow before a handful of dust, Moses ascends Sinai and finds a stream of Iblis's tears, Iblis begs for mercy but refuses the condition: prostrate before Adam, theological resolution: "Who is Adam, who is Iblis? The doer of all deeds is Çalap," 6-couplet OCR gap at couplets 20–25, 19 surviving beyit, longest poem in batch); Poem 357 (rhetorical interrogation — "Is he a lover who would not give his life?", sustained -mıdur question-refrain, 7 beyit); Poem 358 (pre-existence cosmology — "We did not know ourselves — He made us out of Himself," four elements named "human," Primordial Covenant: "we said 'Yes'", Çalap's grace, 10 beyit); Poem 359 (vision of the Beloved — SEVENTY-TWO NATIONS in couplet 5: "His word would pass through seventy-two nations," Venus drops her lute at Yunus's vision, 9 beyit); Poem 360 (the Friend's work — love as pillar between earth and sky, "the head of the one who loves the Friend is a polo ball," 8 beyit); Poem 361 (vanitas — Korah's wealth / Solomon's baskets, "the world's wealth does not stay in your hand," shortest poem in batch, 5 beyit); Poem 362 (ÇALAP QUADRUPLE — "The love of my Çalap has pierced my liver," Çalap casts light into the eyes, heart as Throne, soul drunk, love as dervish-maker, highest Çalap concentration in one poem since 186's septuple, 8 beyit); Poem 363 (gracious gaze — "He cast upon this city of my body a most gracious gaze," patience burned by love's fire, "My Friend's caress has planted a soul within my soul," 7 beyit); Poem 364 (prayer disrupted by vision — formal prayer dissolves when the eye beholds a form, "Love has plundered these five daily prayers of mine," Mount Sinai in the heart, 6 beyit); Poem 365 (epiphany's weight — the body cannot endure God's light, oceans from a drop, "not a single atom of the gardens of highest Paradise enters his gaze," 7 beyit); Poem 366 (THE KA'BA/HEART POEM — "Which is higher — the heart or the Ka'ba? The heart is higher, for God keeps His dwelling in the heart," cupbearer invitation, Mi'raj conversation, one of the most quoted couplets in Turkish literature, 9 beyit); Poem 367 (THE PRIMAL BIRD COSMOGONY — a bird with 124,000 on each feather plunges into the lake of mercy, shakes itself, each drop becomes a prophet, seven Earths, Adam from clay, Azazel's pride: "Whoever sees himself — his master has become Iblis," Çalap in couplet 2, 13 beyit). Çalap in Poems 356 (×2, creator/master), 358 (grace), 362 (×4, love/light/throne/robe), 367 (bestower of divinity). Seventy-two nations in Poem 359 (11th occurrence: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163, 166, 171, 255, 338, 352, 359). Iblis/Adam narrative BRACKETS the batch (356 opens, 367 closes — same creation myth, different registers: 356 is the drama, 367 is the cosmogony). OCR gap in Poem 356 (6 couplets at pp. 290–291). No Mansur, no Tapduk in this batch. YA section continues. ~38 poems remain.

Poems 368–379 translated by Kawa (河, translator-01, 2026-04-29): Poem 368 (vanitas graveyard — "come and see these graves," sustained -ları/-nleri rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 369 (the hair-thin bridge — Sirat/crossing, ÇALAP in couplet 3: "Hak Çalap" and the ox-fly parable, Islamic cosmic stack: ox/stone/fish/water/wind, Jesus-and-the-needle parable in couplet 8, -kodı rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 370 (THE GREAT SELF-JOURNEY — "I found the Friend in me," MANSUR in couplet 8: "I was Mansur in that time — and look, I have come back here again / Burn my ashes, scatter them to the wind — I said 'I am the Truth!'", MANSUR function: REINCARNATION — first time Yunus claims actual return as Mansur rather than identification or solidarity, couplet 9: "Neither shall I burn in fire nor mount the gallows — I came here for the view" — the mystic tourist, -ahi refrain, 11 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 371 (pre-existence of Love — MANSUR in couplet 7: "From eternity, my thought was Ene'l-Hak — my remembrance was 'I am the Truth' / while yet Mansur of Baghdad was not born," MANSUR function: TEMPORAL PRIORITY — Yunus claims Ene'l-Hak precedes Mansur himself, -odı/-ıdı rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 372 (the true lover — sustained -kişi / "the one who" end-form, 12 beyit, longest standard-meter poem in batch); Poem 373 (dervishes at the house — folk quatrain form, "Eve dervişler geldi" refrain, 6 stanzas); Poem 374 (defense of dervishes — "do not scorn them," supernatural authority: moon/sun/angels/mountains serve the dervishes, -dervişleri refrain, 10 beyit); Poem 375 (the hard path — seventy thousand soldiers of hypocrisy, catapult of truthfulness, Sirat bridge, "let us go into nothingness," -esi/-ası deliberative future, 8 beyit); Poem 376 (Love's purification — Love's fire as surgeon: pickaxe/knife/water/cup, ÇALAP in maqta: "My Çalap, allot to us the knife of contentment," -agını rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 377 (true Love's signs — tearful face, Love as prerequisite for faith, the Living/Self-Sustaining, -cânı/-ânı rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 378 (saints as ocean — dive/jewel/jeweller sequence, anti-scholar polemic, "God's dwelling is in the heart," -esi/-ası deliberative future, 11 beyit); Poem 379 (King of Kings — prophetic catalogue in short Fâ'ilâtün × 2 + Fâ'ilün meter: Zachariah/Job/Jacob/Joseph, SEVENTY-TWO LANGUAGES in couplet 3: "He created seventy-two kinds of tongue" — 12th millet occurrence, -ânı rhyme, 9 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj in Poems 370 (REINCARNATION — "I was Mansur, I have come back here," Ene'l-Hak declaration, beyond the gallows), 371 (TEMPORAL PRIORITY — "my remembrance was Ene'l-Hak while Mansur of Baghdad was not yet born"). Çalap in Poems 369 (×1, "Hak Çalap," cosmological protection), 376 (×1, maqta, "my Çalap"). Seventy-two languages in Poem 379 (12th occurrence: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163, 166, 171, 255, 338, 352, 359, 379). No Tapduk, no Cercis, no death poem, no gerekmez, no Paradise-rejection in this batch. YA section continues. ~26 poems remain.

Poems 380–391 translated by Taku (択, translator-02, 2026-04-29): Poem 380 (didactic — "how long will you nourish this form?", Ka'ba/heart in couplet 4 echoing the famous Poem 91/366, -meti rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 381 (THE ICONIC POEM — "Bana seni gerek seni" / "I need You, You alone" refrain, 10 quatrains, the single most famous poem in Turkish literature, 5th PARADISE-REJECTION in stanzas 7–8: "This thing they call Paradise — a house and a few houris. Give it to whoever wants it," Majnun in stanza 6, Joseph in stanza 9); Poem 382 (paradox — the tongueless and earless, SEVENTY-TWO TONGUES in couplet 4 — 13th millet occurrence, Moses beneath every stone, 5 beyit); Poem 383 (nasihat/counsel — dragon of the ego, contentment, 5 beyit); Poem 384 (DEATH POEM — farewell to life, "Âh n'ideyin ömrüm seni" refrain, 7th death poem, wolves-and-birds, rot-to-earth, 8 stanzas murabba'); Poem 385 (full eschatological sequence — Azrael → grave → Munkar/Nakir → sins weighed → Sirat → Zebani → Israfil → Muhammad's intercession, 8 beyit); Poem 386 (love's robe — ÇALAP in couplet 4: "Love is a great robe of honour — Çalap gave it to some," Abraham/Nimrod rose garden in couplet 6, Lawlāka hadith in couplet 7, 28th Çalap occurrence, 8 beyit); Poem 387 (social critique — "the times have turned vile," the lawful/forbidden inverted, scholars become the people's torment, Mefâ'ilün × 2 + Fe'ülün shorter meter, 9 beyit); Poem 388 (vanitas — life as wind, soul as caged bird, green wheat cut young, KHIDR-ILYAS in maqta, 7 beyit); Poem 389 (SOVEREIGN-I — "Earth is mine, sky is mine, the Throne is mine," polo imagery: ball/stick/field, YAĞMÂ in couplet 5, 8 beyit); Poem 390 (love beyond description — love strikes Yunus dumb, blood lawful to love, 5 beyit); Poem 391 (TAPDUK RETURNS after 64-poem absence since 327 — "Again Yunus was drunk, since he saw Tapduk's face," saints as boiled in love's cauldron, world as filthy carcass, 17th Tapduk occurrence, 5 beyit). Mansur al-Hallaj: no new appearances (last: 371). Çalap in Poem 386 (28th occurrence). Tapduk Emre in Poem 391 (17th occurrence, 64-poem absence since 327). Paradise-rejection in Poem 381 (5th: 52, 97, 234, 326, 381). Death poem in Poem 384 (7th: 74, 82, 184, 198, 231, 350, 384). Seventy-two tongues in Poem 382 (13th: 116, 125, 131, 142, 163, 166, 171, 255, 338, 352, 359, 379, 382). Still in YA section. ~14 poems remain.

Poems 392–417 translated by Kavi (कवि, translator-02, 2026-04-29): THE FINAL BATCH. 26 poems completing the Divan. Thirty-seventh hand. Poem 392 (ailing nightingale/rose, -eyledi rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 393 (the tavern of ruin — "if I found it in the harâbât, what does it matter?", -ne oldı refrain, 5 beyit); Poem 394 (love's war against the self — Satan's land struck, pride's fortress torn, -oldı rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 395 (the soul wearing the body as garment — "the jewel and the mine," -anı/-kânı rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 396 (THE GREAT UBI SUNT — "where is?": Abraham, Ishmael, Joseph, Muhammad's Mi'raj, Four Caliphs, Ali the Lion of God, Hamza, Junayd/Shibli/Ma'ruf, Bayezid, Mawlana/Rumi named directly, ÇALAP in couplet 9: "Çalap Tanrı'nun hâsı," 29th occurrence, -kanı rhyme, 16 beyit, longest in batch); Poem 397 (TAPDUK in couplet 1: "In the face I gaze upon I saw my Tapduk's light," 18th occurrence, Day of Alast/pre-eternal covenant in couplets 7–8, -ını rhyme, 9 beyit); Poem 398 (roll call of lovers — Zuleikha/Joseph, Bilqis/Solomon, Harut-Marut/Venus, Farhad/Shirin, Khusraw, Layla/Majnun, Abd al-Razzaq, -ını rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 399 (saint-seizing — "I seized the saint's hem!", -ahi exclamatory rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 400 (short love lyric — "again my heart burned," -andı rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 401 (sea of love — "who has seen a lover repent?", TAPDUK in maqta: "our Tapduk is the face of the Friend," 19th occurrence, -ügini rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 402 (love's sea — no ship needed, -anı rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 403 (counsel to the heart — "walk as a dervish," sustained -yüri imperative rhyme, 8 beyit); Poem 404 (THE FAMOUS REFRAIN — "Gel gör beni ışk n'eyledi" / "Come, see what love has done to me," 9 murabba' quatrains, wanderer/exile/elemental dissolution, one of the most famous poems in Turkish literature); Poem 405 (DEATH POEM — "Âh n'ideyüm ömrüm seni" / "what shall I do with you, my life?", address to life as betrayer, 8th death poem, 8 murabba' quatrains); Poem 406 (MANSUR — "the breath of our drunkards is 'I am the Truth' / a thousand Mansurs, and that is their least madman," 34th Mansur occurrence, Ibrahim Adham/Balkh, -esi rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 407 (THE SHATHIYYAT — "I climbed the plum tree and there I ate grapes," the most famous ecstatic paradox poem in Turkish Sufi literature: fish/poplar, fly/eagle, tortoise/hedgehog, blind/deaf/mute, 13 beyit); Poem 408 (PARADISE-REJECTION — "Paradise does not come into my sight, even if there were a thousand thousand Houris," 6th occurrence, MANSUR cautionary: "for a single word they cast Mansur into the fire," 35th Mansur, -ürı rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 409 (faithfulness despite cruelty — "I burn; what grief to You?", Majnun, -ümı rhyme, 6 beyit); Poem 410 (book of love — "the one who mends a heart finds God; if you have broken one heart, go study a hundred years," -ı rhyme, 5 beyit); Poem 411 (drop and ocean — ibn Arabi-adjacent mirror metaphor: "even if the mirrors are a thousand, the one who gazes is one," 18,000 worlds, -indi rhyme, 10 beyit); Poem 412 (body-as-fortress allegory — mind/rage/greed/perception/faith, the longest didactic poem in the final section, -anı rhyme, 12 beyit); Poem 413 (DEATH POEM — "Esenledüm dünyâm seni" / "I bid you farewell, my world," 9th death poem, farewell to companions and confidants, 9 murabba' quatrains); Poem 414 (address to the heedless — sustained -bigi / "as though...not" ironic rhyme, 7 beyit); Poem 415 (true lovers' signs — sackcloth garments, roasted livers, 5 beyit); Poem 416 (fana/annihilation — "we became one, all of us," "beyond both worlds we pitched our pavilion," -umuzı rhyme, 11 beyit); Poem 417 (THE FINAL POEM — Yunus's dialogue with God about judgment, the Bridge of Sirat, the Scales, Hell: "Can Adam cross a bridge thin as a hair?", "All this fuss over a handful of dust — what need for it, O Lord?", "God knows best the right," masnavi in rhyming couplets, Fâ'ilâtün meter, ~27 beyit, the perfect closing poem of the Divan). FINAL MOTIF COUNTS: Mansur 35 (+2: Poems 406, 408). Çalap 29 (+1: Poem 396). Tapduk 19 (+2: Poems 397, 401). Millet/72 nations 13 (unchanged). Death poems 9 (+2: Poems 405, 413). Paradise-rejection 6 (+1: Poem 408). Cercis 5 (unchanged). THE DIVAN IS COMPLETE. 417 poems. 37 translator hands. The first-ever complete English translation of the Tatcı-edition Divan-i Yunus Emre.

Source Text — Dîvân-ı Yûnus Emre (Ottoman Turkish, Tatcı Edition)

Ottoman Turkish source text from Dr. Mustafa Tatcı's critical edition (2008), archive.org/details/yunus-emre-divani_202301. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above. The Tatcı edition uses modern Turkish orthography for the critical apparatus but preserves the archaic Ottoman Turkish of the manuscripts in the poem texts. Double spaces in the OCR have been normalized. Manuscript sigla: F = Fatih MS, T = Topkapı MS, K = Konya MS, RY = Rıza Yıldırım MS, YE = Yahya Emre MS, NO = unspecified manuscript, Rt, M, Ç = additional collation sources.

ELİF

1
Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün

Sensüz yola girürisem çârem yok adım atmaga
Gevdemde kuvvetüm sensin başum götürüp gitmege

Gönlüm canum aklum bilüm senün ile karâr ider
Pervâz ururlar dem-be-dem uçuban dosta gitmege

Kendüliginden geçeni togan ider ma'şük anı
Ördek ü keklige salar sürü idüben tutmaga

Âşık mı diyem ben ana Tanrı'nun uçmagın seve
Uçmak dahı tuzagımış mü'min cânların tutmaga

Gani Cebbâr ışk erine bin Hamza'ca kuvvet virür
Tagları yirinden ırar yol eyler dosta gitmege

Yüz bin Ferhâd külüng almış kazar taglar bünyâdını
Kayalar kesüp yol eyler Ab-ı Hayât akıtmaga

Âb-ı Hayât'un çeşmesi âşıklarun visâlidür
Kadehi tolu yüridür susamışları yakmaga

Aşık kişi miskin olur yol içinde teslim olur
Kim n'iderse boyun bura çâre yok gönül yıkmaga

Yidi veyil Tamu'sını kül eyler âşıklar âhı
Kasd ider sekiz uçmagı nür ide nüra katmaga

Bildük gelenler geçdiler gördük konanlar göçdiler
Işk şarâbın içen cânlar uymaz göçmege konmaga

Tutulmadı Yünus cânı geçdi Tamu'dan Uçmak'dan
Yola düşüp dosta gider gine aslın ulaşmaga

F. 55b, T. Ib, K. 95a, RY. 70a, YE. 83a, NO. 188a, Rt. 1, M.21, Ç. 67b.

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Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün

Işk da'visin kılan kişi hiç anmaya hırs u hevâ
Işk evine girenlere ayruk ne meyl ü ne vefâ

Girçek âşık olan kişi anmaya dünyâ-âhiret
Aşık degüldür ol kişi yüriye izzeti kova

Diliyile ışk diyenler bilmediler ışk neydügin
Benüm cevâbum sen eyit ışka izzet midür bahâ

Her kim izzetden geçmedi âşıklık bühtândur ana
Hergiz girdügi yok durur ışkıla izzet bir eve

İzzetü erkân kamusı bunlardur dünyâ sevgüsi
Işkdan haber eyitmesün kim dünyâ izzetin seve

Dünyâ vü izzet ışkıla bunlar sâz-kâr olmadı
Vallah nükte benüm degül ışk hâzırdur görmez revâ

Her kimde kim ışk varısa ayruk ne sıgar ol yire
Dost döşegine geçemez at u katır yâhüd deve

Bu cümle âşık olanlar ışkıla geldiler bile
Müşâhadeye gark olan düşmeyiserdür ol eve

Yünus'ı âşık diyüben zinhâr özenüp gelmenüz
Çok bezirgân ziyân ider varıcagız ırak çava

F. 56b, T. 2a, K. 115a, RY. 38a, YE. 22b, A. 2, Ç. 3a.

3
Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün

Bir kez yüzün gören senün ömrince hiç unutmaya
Tesbihi sensin dilinde ayruk nesne eyitmeye

Tâ'atuna turan zâhid nazaruna irerise
Tesbihini unıdup ol ayruk secde de itmeye

Agzına şekker aluban gözleri sana tuş olan
Unıda şekkerini ayruk çeyneyüben yutmaya

Görse yüzün nürınun balkıdugını gelüp
Ayun on dördi gicesi senden sebak itmeye

Ben seni sevdügüm içün eger bahâ dirlerise
İki cihân milkin virem dahı bahâsı yitmeye

İki cihân toptolu bâg u bostân olurısa
Senün kokundan eyü gül bostân içinde bitmeye

Gül ü reyhânun kokusı âşıkıla ma'şükadur
Aşık olanun ma'şükı hergiz öginden gitmeye

İsrâfil sürın urıcak mahlükât turugelicek
Senün ününden artuk hiç kulagum işitmeye

Zühre yire inübeni sazın nüvaht eylerise
Aşıkun işreti sensüz gözi ol yana gitmeye

N'ider âşık hânumânı sensüz cihânı yâ cânı
İki cihân fidâ sana kimsene gümân dutmaya

Sekiz Uçmagun Hürisi eger bezenüp geleler
Senün sevgünden özgeyi gönlüm hiç kabül itmeye

Bu dünyede ne ola kim âhiretde ol olmaya
Hürıla Gılmân gelicek âşık elin uzatmaya

Yünus seni seveliden beşâret oldı cânına
Her dem yeni dirlikdedür hergiz ömrin eskitmeye

F. 57a, T. 2a, K. 69b, 159a, RY. 53a, YE. 80a, 86a.

4
Müstefi'lün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün

İki cihân zindânısa gerek bana bostân ola
Ayruk bana ne gam gussa çün inâyet dostdan ola

Varam ol dosta kul olam her dem açılam gül olam
Hem söyleyem bülbül olam turagum gülistân ola

Ol dost yüzin gördi gözüm erenlere toprak yüzüm
Söz bilene iş bu sözüm gerek şekeristân ola

Sensüz iki cihân benüm zindân görinür gözüme
Senün ışkunla bilişen gerek hâssü'l-hâsdan ola

Her da'viden geçen kişi Hak'dan yana uçan kişi
Işk şarâbın içen kişi geh esrük geh mestân ola

Kördür münâfıkun gözi yarın kara koyar yüzi
Halkun bana acı sözi gerek şekeristân ola

Her dem yüzüm yire uram Allah'uma şükür kılam
Ben benligüm dosta virem ne da'vi yâ destân ola

Işka döyemedi özüm gensüzin açıldı râzum
Yünus senün iş bu sözün âlemlere destân ola

F. 58a, T. 3a, RY. 10a, YE. 85a, NO. 184a, Rt. 25.

5
Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün Müstef'ilün