M. Fethullah Gulen
I’m poorly-loving, lazily-longing;
 Render me worthy of your loving.
 Throw a coal, burn me with desire!
 So my horizons light up with fire.
You were near, I was afar,
 The form, I thought, was enough for prayer;
 Surrounded by slaves to imitation,
 I was deceived by what I saw.
Longing had long since died down, 
 Just talk of existence in nothingness;
 A lack of ideal mentors, a letdown, 
 Detached from God, hearts and minds.
Many lending hands, none of them hold;
 Language ruined, systems overturned,
 Orphans of love and desire, we were;
 Heart, soul, and the sacred all destroyed.
Failing to love You and feel your love,
 In isolation, we longed for more;
 We could not surrender at your door,
 Burned for years with a strange ardor.
Let me be your loving Majnun,
 Bestow happiness with your care.
 Being without you—a burning fire,
 As a mundane mortal in this journey.
 
 

 
 
 
