One of the devout who had deeply plunged his head into the cowl of meditation and had been immersed in the ocean of visions, was asked, when he had come out of that state, by one of his companions who had desired to cheer him up: ‘What beautiful gift hast thou brought us from the garden in which thou hast been?’ He replied: ‘I intended to fill the skirts of my robe with roses, when I reached the rose-tree, as presents for my friends but the perfume of the flowers intoxicated me so much that I let go the hold of my skirts.’

—

Saadi, Gulistan (Tr. Richard Burton)