…The Valley of Love … In this city the heaven of ecstasy is upraised and
the world-illuming sun of yearning shineth, and the fire of love is ablaze; and
when the fire of love is ablaze, it burneth to ashes the harvest of reason.
Now is the traveler unaware of himself, and of aught besides
himself. He seeth neither ignorance nor knowledge, neither doubt nor certitude;
he knoweth not the morn of guidance from the night of error. He fleeth both
from unbelief and faith, and deadly poison is a balm to him. Wherefore Attár [the great Persian Súfí poet
1150–1230 A.D] saith:
For the infidel, error—for the
faithful, faith;
For Attár’s heart, an atom of Thy pain.
The steed of this Valley is pain; and if there be no pain
this journey will never end. In this station the lover hath no thought save the
Beloved, and seeketh no refuge save the Friend. At every moment he offereth a
hundred lives in the path of the Loved One, at every step he throweth a
thousand heads at the feet of the Beloved. (Baha’u’llah, ‘The Seven and the
Four Valleys’)
