Lie world I'm tired of you
Strangely enough, people often leave their peace and happiness in the palm of someone else and then spend their life looking for them like the glasses they forgot on their nose.
He endures all sorts of pains, endures pains, becomes comrades with sorrow, and bestows himself with holiness to all these.
He is a dervish who suffers for blessed goals because g / is in essence. He seeks wisdom in every disloyalty he witnesses, and a flaw in every betrayal he encounters.
Yet he knows like honey; There is no wisdom in disloyalty, no fault in himself.
They feed on bitterness, take a strange flavor from grief. He hits his forehead to the nights, to the orphan syllables as an ointment.
D / ins are like water, they cannot tell what is going through. He has been bent once, his heart is painful That's exactly why it is good with a pen.
They watch the passenger, not the road. They miss the expatriate, not the rank. There are wounds that bleed or never heal. They can neither forget nor hold on.
They desire to suffer for visal and even spend a lifetime for that cause, not vuslat. Their judgment is their impatience. Like Kays, who wanders in the middle of the angry desert with the love of Leyla, they walk with love, ecstasy and rush as if they are reaching somewhere, but they cannot travel the length of barley.
Because the beginning of that road is one and its end. Standing at the beginning has seen the end, reaching the end is in the beginning. And in fact, people are old enough to step off that stage at any moment.
They walk around with a smile mask. Even though their hearts cry, "A smile is charity." The Prophet said.
For some it is futile labor, for some it is a blessed wish.