Dance!
Dance!
Dance with nothing on but air.
Dance!

Dance, with nothing on but air.

Dance Lalla, with nothing on but air,
Sing Lalla, wearing the sky,

Sing, wearing the sky,
Look at this glowing day!

What clothes could be so beautiful?
What clothes could be more sacred?

Dance!
Lalla, dance!
With nothing on but air!

Sing Lalla, Sing
la la la la la Lalla!
wearing the sky,
wearing the sky!

Look at this glowing day,
what clothes could be so beautiful?
What clothes could be more sacred?

Dance!
Dance!
Dance!

In this state there is no Shiva,
nor any holy union, only a somewhat
something, moving dreamlike, on a fading road.

I, Lalla, entered the jasmine garden
where Shiva and Shakti were making love.
I dissolved into them.

And what is this to me now?

I seem to be here, but really,
I'm walking in the jasmine garden.

Whatever work I've done,
whatever I've thought,
was praise with my body,
and praise hidden inside my head.

I wearied myself searching 

for the Friend
with efforts beyond my strength.

I came to the door 

and saw how powerfully
the locks were bolted.

And the longing in me became that strong.

And then I saw I was gazing

 from within the Presence.

With that waiting, 

and in giving up all trying,

only then did Lalla flow out 

from where I knelt.