For even a
moment be our companion, the world is just a breath 
no one that each moment his heart not with someone else
You be the prey for I, whose crops afire 
heard the eagle preyed upon by a fly
I am not
the one and only desiring Your face
there is, must have Your desire in head 
for You shall never leave our heart, not even one breath
harvest of our arrogant life, merely this miserable ‘Self’ 
not the one ever neglected by my eyes
moment It is with all drifting woods on all waters 
moment, running away from the floods of my eyes
droplet gushing from the fountains of Ars 
am entangled in Your trap, no other trap avails
you hunt a bird already bound in a cage?
Beloved wafting above the caravan, fell asleep how?
around were moans and clang of bells aloud 
boasted: “I am the lowest in Your court of all slaves proud”
responded: “Pass through this gate since Mine slaves only one” 
 I am not sure if Khajoo is asking the Lord to be our
companion or other human beings. My feeling is that he is asking for
other human beings to be his friends, because this life is so short
there is no way worth the enmities. He claims that anyway there is no
way your heart can be free of anyone else’s love! This is true… we
strive as hard as we can each moment of our life to love someone or
something without much deliberation. 'Breath' in Farsi refers to a
brief moment of time like a sigh.
 The term “crops afire” means someone who is a loser
without any power or influence. Khajoo narrates how can a loser even
think possible to seek the Lord of the universe the Almighty power with
no parallel!? And he compares that to a fly attempting to hunt an
eagle. How silly we are!
 Khajoo recognizes his own arrogance in this verse and
later the conclusion of this poem! Wanna-be Sufis, cosmetic Sheikhs,
hollow Ayatollahs and all those arrogant scholarly types, the old men
with long dangling beards and robes should uncover the gem Khajoo
proffers to us for free: All things in the universe are filled with
desire and love of Allah though they may not even know or we may not be
able to comprehend their expression of such divine love. When sun loves
Allah it bursts out with magnificent radiation the expression of its
love for Almighty the Supreme Creator. When DNA praises the love of the
Creator, it doubles itself non-stops the expression (gene expression)
of most undying love for its Master. When blossoms smile with untried
love of their Creator, they break through the sheath of their branches.
Man be not arrogant! Sheikhs, Sages and Yogis be all gone!!!!!!!!!!!
You have NO exclusives here.
 Again Khajoo emphasizes that love of Allah leaves not
our lives and our hearts. Unlike the wealth and all that which we work
for foolishly… shall depart from us, all is left behind at the end,
like at the beginning, is the Self. That miserable poor and desolate
Self who is loved ONLY by the Beloved nonetheless.
 How can we look for Allah????? Allah is looking upon
us moment by moment and we face The Majest every second of our life and
death. Imagine this, the Creator is gazing upon every leaf rolling down
a brook carefully. There is no such leaf or brook not looked upon and
carefully considered by Allah. Then how can you even think being away
from the eyes of Allah?
 ‘Ars’ is a river bordering Azarbeijan and Iran running
by Teblisi (Teflis) the birthplace of my father!
 Imagine Allah the most prized King of a caravan being
carried above the throne wafting aloft and all the raucous surrounding
this caravan is being not heard by us such that we fall deep asleep
negligent in this worldly life? Clang of bells refers to the bells
hanging from the necks of camels,
 If you think you are humbled to your Lord, even if
that pleasure of a thought occurred to you, then you a pompous arrogant
human being not worthy of the Lord. When Khajoo makes such arrogant
expression of his ignorance, he is replied to, “there is only one slave
for Allah i.e. all things and people are Its slave the same way, the
same amount and same how!” Only the arrogant men classify righteousness
for their own pleasures and worldly gains.
By Dara Shayda