Defining the Lover

'A lover', said the hoopoe, now their guide,

'Is one in whom all thoughts of Self have died;

Those who renounce the Self deserve that name;

Righteous or sinful, they are all the same!

Your heart is thwarted by the Self's control;

Destroy its hold on you and reach your goal.

Give up this hindrance, give up moral sight,

For only then can you approach the light.

If you are told: "Renounce our Faith", obey!

The Self and Faith must both be tossed away;

Blasphemers call such action blasphemy -

Tell them that love exceeds mere piety. 

Love has no time for blasphemy or faith,

Nor lovers for the Self, that feeble wraith.

They burn all that they own; unmoved they feel

Against their skin the torturer's sharp steel.

Heart's blood and bitter pain belong to love,

And tales of problems no one can remove;

Cupbearer, fill the bowl with blood, not wine -

And if you lack the heart's rich blood take mine.

Love thrives on inextinguishable pain,

Which tears the soul, then knits the threads again.

A mote of love exceeds all bounds; it gives

The viral essence to whatever lives.

But where love thrives, there pain is always found; 

Angels alone escape this weary round -

They love without that savage agony

Which is reserved for vexed humanity.

Islam and blasphemy have both been passed

By those who set out on love's path at last;

Love will direct you to Dame Poverty,

And she will show the way to Blasphemy.

When neither Blasphemy nor Faith remain,

The body and the Self have both been slain;

Then the fierce fortitude the Way will ask

Is yours, and you are worthy of our task.

Begin the journey without fear; be calm;

Forget what is and what is not Islam;

Put childish dread aside - like heroes meet

The hundred problems which you must defeat.

[Farid Ud-Din Attar]
{Excerpt from "The Conference of the Birds"}