Dancing their small tassel-like twigs and branches, both they themselves and their observers express their fine pleasure and elevated delight.

They give voice as though touching the sensitive strings and veins of the veils of love: “Ah! It is He!”

From it this meaning comes to mind: they recall both the weeping caused by the pain of fading metaphorical loves, and a profoundly sorrowful moaning.

They make heard the melancholy songs of lovers parted from their beloveds, like Sultan Mahmud.

They seemingly have the duty to make the dead hear the pre-eternal songs and sorrowful voices, who no longer hear worldly voices and words.

The spirit understands from this that beings respond with glorification to the manifestation of the Glorious Maker’s names; they perform a graceful chant.

The heart reads the mystery of divine unity in these trees, each like an embodied sign, from the elevated composition of their inimitability. That is, there is so wonderful an order, art, and wisdom in the manner of their creation, that if all the causes in existence had the power to act and choose, and they gathered together, they could not imitate them.

The soul, on seeing them, sees the whole earth as revolving in a clamorous tumult of separation, so seeks enduring pleasure. It receives the meaning: “You will find it in abandoning the worship of this world.”

The reason discovers in the chanting animals and trees and the vociferous plants and air, a most meaningful order of creation, embroidery of wisdom, and treasury of secrets. It understands that everything is glorifying the Glorious Maker in numerous ways.

The desirous soul receives such pleasure from the murmuring air and whispering leaves that it forgets all metaphorical pleasures, and through abandoning these, which endow it with life, wants to die in the pleasure of reality.

The imagination sees that appointed angels have entered these trees like bodies, from whose branches hang many flutes. It is as though an Eternal Monarch has clothed the angels in the trees for a splendid parade accompanied with the sounds of a thousand flutes. Thus the trees show themselves to be not lifeless, unconscious bodies, but highly conscious and meaningful.

The flutes are pure and powerful as though issuing from a heavenly, exalted orchestra. The mind does not hear from them the sorrowful plaints of separation, that foremost Mawlana Jalaluddin Rumi and all lovers hear, but dominical praise and laudation and grateful thanks offered to the Most Merciful, the Ever-Living, the Self-Subsistent.