O ye friends of the Beloved! The candle of guidance is burning, and the light shining from the Supreme Horizon adorneth every assemblage. The showers of grace are pouring down, and the bestowals of the unseen Kingdom are abundant. The angelic voice is raised in song, and the birds of the garden warble the Psalms of David. The musk-scented breeze sheddeth its fragrance, and the gentle wind wafting from the garden of roses reviveth the souls of the righteous. Yet, the heedless are as dead and the ignorant fast asleep. The wavering souls are withered and the chilled hearts downcast. For the sun lighteth the eyes of the seeing, not of the blind; the songs of David transport the spirits of the hearing, not of the deaf; and the nectar of eternity is sweet in the mouths of those with taste, not of the dead.
Praise be to God that your vision is illumined and your hearts like unto a rose-garden. Your cups are filled with choice wine, and your assemblage adorned with the Cup-bearer’s beauteous face. The eyes of the loving-kindness of the Ancient Beauty, the Most Great Name, are turned towards you, and the glances of the eye of mercy are cast upon you. Wherefore, in thanksgiving for such grace and bounty, strive ye to spread abroad His fragrances and drink deep from His refreshing cup. Burn brightly even as a candle, be ablaze as the Fire that was kindled in the right side of the Vale,1 and illumine the whole world. Thus may the Caucasus become the nest of the immortal Phoenix and the people of Tiflis intimate companions of that cherished Bird; thus may the fowls of holiness sing and chant in its gardens of reality and the gazelles of unity amble and stroll in its fields and mountains. When that land is quickened by the breezes of the Self-Subsisting Lord, it will become even as the Abhá Paradise.