This is taken from the Intimate Conversations of Khwaja Abdullah Ansari. For more about this 11th c. Sufi, see this earlier post.

O God,
if chicory is bitter, it is still from the garden;
if Abdullah is a sinner, he is still one of your friends.

My heart beats ever with desire for you;
My soul in my body breathes ever for you.
When plants grow over my dust,
Let every leaf be redolent with the aroma of my fidelity to you.

Translation Wheeler M. Thackston