 Should you not gain your wants, my soul, then be not weep, But hasten to that bank with which your Lord's bequeath. And when the thing for which you ask is slow to come, Then know that often through delay our gifts receive. Find solace in privation and respect is due, For only by contentment is the heart relieved. And know that when the trials of life have rendered, Despairing of all hope and of all joy be weep. Then shake yourself and rouse yourself from heedlessness. Pure hope, a meadow that you never leave. Your makers' gifts take subtle and uncounted forms. How fine the fabric of the world his hands have weep. The journey done, they came to thee, water, And all the care of and drink deep, their thirst relieved. Far be it from the host to leave them thirsty. His spring pours forth all generosity receive. My Lord, my trust in all your purposes is strong. That trust is now my shield, I'm saved and undeceived. All those who hope for grace from you will fill your heart. To generous are you to leave my branch only. May blessings rest upon the loved one Muhammad, Who's been my means to hide these sins I believe. He is my fortress and my handle, so my soul. Hold fast and travel to a joy still unconceived. Hold fast and travel to a joy still unconceived.