I made my intellect a friend to me
     But my heart wouldn't accept the advice he gave;
The heart has a big sack it carries with it
     When I stuffed the world in, it didn't fill it.

We are obliged to accept another's greeting--
     This pen made of luminosity said: Write!
It is the Beloved who created this flower's light
     and whoever smells it finds all existence in it.

Don't wander like a vagabond, serve a spiritual master--
     Keep your eyes ever on the path you're on.
Do not set your wares before unworthy ones;
     These are no ordinary goods and you're no seller.

Youth is like the summer, old age like the winter;
     Still, in my heart fresh sorrows enter;
So bow your head and serve the Master
     You'll never reach the goal with the devil's manner.

Kul Himmet has a bouquet of roses in his hand;
     He keeps the name of the Beloved ever on his tongue;
I am in love with a beauty on the path to that One--
     My soul's imagination is her throne.