'In My Soul' by Rabia, 8th C, poetess saint of Islam
In my soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church.
Prayer should bring us to an altar where no walls or names exist.
Is there not a region of love where the sovereignty is illumined nothing,
where ecstasy gets poured into itself and becomes lost,
where the wing is fully alive but has no mind or body?
In my soul there is a temple, a shrine, a mosque, a church
that dissolve, that dissolve in God.