M. Fethullah Gulen
Everything comes up roses in our sphere, rapture, zeal, and joy...
So enraptured that
We’re oblivious to spring and summer.
The magical song of faith on our tongues,
There’s a love like Majnun’s in our hearts.
Those who visit our circle turn to diamonds,
Divine lights keep showering all around.
We do not actually mean “us,”
all these bestowals are from the Providence,
All souls and beloved ones
are from the Eternal’s garden
The ones who face Him are like flowers turning,
In that blessed climate, autumn turns to spring
No wonder their rosy skins look silvered
The infinite color of the Eternal gleaming bright.