Number 16

Reason rises from careful thought; love from madness and longing. Lord, how can I find a cure for this pain? Reason lives in thinking, love in bewilderment; this one deliberates, that one cries out in a frenzy. Reason is all formality, love is tenderness; reason keeps wishing, love keeps devoting itself. Reason seeks proof, the lover seeks his return to God; reason strains to reason it out, the lover seeks the highest companion. You are the soul of all souls, the wealth behind every appearance; you are the treasure house of safety, both the 'no' and the 'except.' Love, you are so full of affection, the source of every loss and gain; you are the wealth of true witnessing, a sea, yet perfectly clear. By those disarming glances, by those sweet ways, we were left dazzled, dazzled; we grew mad with longing, mad. From the cup of 'every faction rejoices' the people of the world are drunk; Qasim's soul is drunk from the cup of God the Most High.