My body exhausted, my soul injured, and my heart wounded
I am estranged from the Beloved and distant from myself
I am worn out as the wretched
I am distraught and mournful as the beggars
Having lost the essence of youth,
My soul has grown old for want of strength
Yet! Despite all these pains which I have,
I will survive should You become my friend
O You whose doorway is the shelter for the dervish
To you everyone has attached the hopes of his heart
Since I have returned to Your Doorway,
Lift me in kindness and sooth my soul
-‘Imrani