Oh disciple of love, open your eyes,
look to the face of the land.
See these subtle plants, how their flowering passes.
With such care they grow toward the Friend-
ask them what goal they have in mind.
Each flower has a thousand ways it flirts with Truth.
Every bird with its song is remembering the Ruler.
They praise His Ability, His Presence in every detail,
yes, and as they see the shortness of life, they pale.
Each day their color changes,
until they fall to the ground.
This is a teaching for the wise who understand.
Your coming doesn't lead anywhere.
Your laughter isn't funny.
Your only destination is death,
if you haven't learned to love.
Yunus, forget about talking,
take your hand off your self. What can you do?
Not a single thing, good or bad, is apart from God...
-Yunus Emre
look to the face of the land.
See these subtle plants, how their flowering passes.
With such care they grow toward the Friend-
ask them what goal they have in mind.
Each flower has a thousand ways it flirts with Truth.
Every bird with its song is remembering the Ruler.
They praise His Ability, His Presence in every detail,
yes, and as they see the shortness of life, they pale.
Each day their color changes,
until they fall to the ground.
This is a teaching for the wise who understand.
Your coming doesn't lead anywhere.
Your laughter isn't funny.
Your only destination is death,
if you haven't learned to love.
Yunus, forget about talking,
take your hand off your self. What can you do?
Not a single thing, good or bad, is apart from God...
-Yunus Emre
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