O friend, the heart is the dwelling of eternal mysteries, make it not the home of fleeting fancies; waste not the treasure of they precious life in employment with this swiftly-passing world. Thou comest from the world of holiness-- bind not thine heart to the earth; thou art a dweller in the court of nearness-- choose not the homeland of the dust. (35:1)

In sum, there is no end to the description of these stages, but because of the wrongs inflicted by the peoples of the earth, this Servant is in no mood to continue:
The tale is still unfinished and I have no heart for it--
Then pray forgive me. (35:2)

The pen groaneth and the ink sheddeth tears, and the river of the heart moveth in waves of blood. "Nothing can befall us but what God hath destined for us." Peace be upon him who followeth the Right Path! (35:4)

After scaling the high summits of wonderment the wayfarer cometh to: (35:5)

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