On the Reason for Writing This Book

In the prime of my youth, far from home, the pain of exile joined the pain of longing for my beloved. I was twenty years old, more or less, and the light of mystic knowledge was raising its banner in my heart. In my cabin of sorrows I was again holding a conversation with my brothers and friends. A questioner asked me, distraught as I was, about the soul, the self, and the heart. Such delicate insights came to me that I said: how could I ever let these slip away? It would be fitting, I thought, to arrange them into a book and call it 'Companion of the Mystics.' In it I would answer questions about five things: the self, the soul, the heart, the intellect, and love as well. It would hold all the lights of truth; it would uncover the secrets of the lover. It would be a confidant to the hearts of dervishes, a balm for souls whose hearts are wounded. In truth, a ledger of the court of mysteries; on the path, a comfort to those who walk it. Every fortunate seeker will find their way to this blessed book easily, at any time. O Refuge of those who cry for help, O Generous One, O Abundant in goodness, O Lord, O Merciful. Poor Qasim, from head to foot, without You is pure nothingness, empty of all existence. Since his being is nothing on its own, how could he speak of knowing the self, the intellect, and the soul? If Your grace instructs me when I set to work, even Gabriel will praise me a hundred thousand times.