Saint's Mirth

Scribes of the Divine recite, For true liberation: One must sever all ties with the world. Yet in mine, you have generously pervaded. I have transgressed, From a sedate disciple, the Buddha laughs, into Flaming Youth! When I sear, like untouched camphor, what remains in my stead to surrender? Save my ghazals that exalt you, the All-Benevolent deems them worthy, as hymns of adoration unto Him, for He alone created you; His Merciful eyes befall us.