Behold the blasphemy that is faith!

I have come without a heart, without a soul;
Look at my color, read the lines on my face, O my boy!
No, I am wrong, I have not come at all, you came to me;
You came with me, hidden in my existence, O my boy!
Simile in the face of fire like a piece of gold;
And good fortune will smile at you. O my boy!

In the tavern of my heart there are thoughts
Fighting each other like drunks, O my boy!
Bear [with me] and listen to the clamor of the intoxicated;
Ah, the door broke! the doorman run away! O my boy!
I have come, and I have brought you a mirror;
Look at yourself, do not turn your face, O my boy!
My blasphemy is a mirror for your faith;
Behold the blasphemy that is faith! O my boy!
I cry out in silence;
I have come to be a silent speaker, O my boy!

(Divan 1098:1-8)
Rumi