I dreaded the mosque.
I fled to my lord’s dwelling,
Where a thousand sounds reverberate.
When love revealed its mystery to me,
The parroted words vanished.
Inside and out, I was cleansed.
I saw my beloved wherever I looked.
Heer and Ranjha are already one.
But Heer, deluded, still searches the woods.
Her Ranjha is with her,
And she doesn’t even know it.
I am tired of reading the Vedas and the Koran!
Obeisance has only abraded my forehead .
God was not in Mecca, nor any holy place.
But who ever found him became brightly illuminated.
Burn the prayer rug, break the clay pot,
Divest yourself of rosary, bowl and staff.
Those who love proclaim repeatedly and loudly,
‘Eat the forbidden! Forsake halaal!’
You have spent your life in the mosque,
Your heart still filled with filth.
Not once did you declare that god is one!
What is the point of making this racket now?
Your devotion was loveless.
Now your protestations are worthless.
Bulla says, I would have remained silent,
It is love that compels me to speak forcefully.
The blossoming of love is strange and wonderful