“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?I have no idea.My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,and I intend to end up there. Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?I cannot stop asking.If I could taste one sip of an answer,I could break out of this prison for drunks.I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home.”

“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?I have no idea.My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,And I intend to end up there.This drunkenness began in some other tavern.When I get back around to that place,I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.The day is coming when I fly off,But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?Who says words with my mouth?Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?I cannot stop asking.If I could taste one sip of an answer,I could break out of this prison for drunks.I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.I don't plan it.When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.That's fine with us. Every morningWe glow and in the evening we glow again.”

“I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.”

“My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there.”

“What can I do, Muslims? I do not know myself.I am neither Christian nor Jew, neither Magian nor Muslim,I am not from east or west, not from land or sea,not from the shafts of nature nor from the spheres of the firmament,not of the earth, not of water, not of air, not of fire.I am not from the highest heaven, not from this world,not from existence, not from being.I am not from India, not from China, not from Bulgar, not from Saqsin,not from the realm of the two Iraqs, not from the land of Khurasan.I am not from the world, not from beyond,not from heaven and not from hell.I am not from Adam, not from Eve, not from paradise and not from Ridwan.My place is placeless, my trace is traceless,no body, no soul, I am from the soul of souls.I have chased out duality, lived the two worlds as one.One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call.He is the first, he is the last, he is the outer, he is the inner.Beyond He and He is I know no other.I am drunk from the cup of love, the two worlds have escaped me.I have no concern but carouse and rapture.If one day in my life I spend a moment without youfrom that hour and that time I would repent my life.If one day I am given a moment in solitude with youI will trample the two worlds underfoot and dance forever.O Sun of Tabriz, I am so tipsy here in this world,I have no tale to tell but tipsiness and rapture.”

“This mirror inside me shows.I can’t say what, but I can’t not know.I run from body. I run from spirit.I do not belong anywhere.”

“Study me as much as you like, you will not know me, for I differ in a hundred ways from what you see me to be. Put yourself behind my eyes and see me as I see myself, for I have chosen to dwell in a place you cannot see.”