When Love comes suddenly and taps
on your window,
run and let it in,
but first
shut the door of your reason,
even the smallest hint
chases love away,
like smoke that drowns
the freshness of
the morning breeze.
To reason, Love can only say
this way is barred,
you can't pass through,
but to the lover
it offers a hundred blessings.
Before the mind decides
to take a step,
Love has reached
the seventh heaven.
Love has climbed the Holy Mountain.
Love has reached
the seventh heaven.
Love has climbed the Holy Mountain.
I must stop this talk now
and let Love speak
from its nest of silence.