Oh, my friends, Muslims,
The sultan of two worlds,
In ancient times an immortal soul
Of the Prophet was created in a perishable body.
From Moses’s Tur Mountains on the Earth,
From a paradise fairy in the heaven,
From the divine radiance of the Messenger,
Moon, Sun, Earth and Sky were created.
Dreaming to see your beautiful face,
I wandered around the mountain of a saint,
Calling and looking for my love,
My soul wandered throughout the world.
I lost my consciousness, taken aback,
When at last I met a brave man,
When I crossed over sixty-six mountains,
And had crossed twelve rivers.
Magtymguly, your soul is not at peace,
What a fire it is you are burning in,
You are separated from everything,
You won’t distinguish benefit from harm.