THE world is an imaginary figure,
A diffused shadow of the Infinite;
One breath created the worlds of command
And all living things.
As they appear to come forth, so they appear to go.
Though there is no real coming and going.
For what is going but coming?
. . . All are one, both the visible and the invisible.
God most high, the Eternal One,
Creates and destroys both worlds.
. . . The varied forms you see are but phantoms of your fancy,
And by revolving quickly in a circle
Appear as one.
THIS WORLD A MIRAGE
THE house is left empty, save for the Truth,
For in a moment the world has passed away;
Then you, rid of self, fly upwards
And are united to the Beloved.
Union is yours when this dream-world
Fades and dies away.