The great toiling
For the storm of this heart there seems to be no end
Havoc it has wreaked on what this wretch has penned
My words I see pushed around by its powerful winds
Incomprehensible they have become to their minds
A storm close by screamed from whence did you acquire this turbulence
The heart replied, it was the only way I could flee from this impermanence
The shattered glass looked towards me in surprise
As from my shattering in my new form I rise
The glass exclaimed, I knew not such a shattering could be
The heart replied, it was the only way from myself I could be set free
As I approached a fire, from my heat it wished to retreat
Weak was its burning, with this heart’s burning it could not compete
The raging flames roared from where did you get such burning
The heart replied, it is but the result of the moments of His yearning
Oh mankind know without anguish your being cannot be
Just as how from sweetness sugar cannot flee
You shall toil a great toiling until Him you shall meet
Rid yourself of the fever of the world and the toiling will become sweet
Among us you will not be considered a lover if you escape the pain
Without the pain, your struggle for union with the beloved shall be in vain
Play not the game of love if greater anguish you cannot bear
For in this game the clothing of suffering and pain you must wear
