Book in this poetic form
This page shows only poems in the Ghazal, Qasida, or Qit‘a form.
Against the light, an infidel, my heart, unfettered, doth rebel; it bows before God’s sanctuary and idols serves, indifferently.
I uttered a new word, but there was none that heard; vision to rapture grew, but glance was none to view.
Why in the concourse dost Thou seek the poet’s wild, ecstatic shriek, or lookest for another’s riot, whose heart is troubled and unquiet?
Never lover true is he who lamenteth dolefully; lover he, who in his bold hath the double world controlled.
Faith and infidelity fight not for the mind of me; no delights of Paradise do my stricken soul entice.
In the heart of the birds, that range this garden, is ever change; ‘Tis one with the rose at breast, an other within the nest.
Thine is the hawk upon the wing and thine the thrush sweet-carolling, thine is the light and joy of life and thine its fire and baneful strife.
We are gone astray from God; he is searching upon the road, for like us, He is need entire and the prisoner of desire.
One step on friendship’s road fairer I see than the moat pressing load of piety.
Of the hirelings’s blood outpoured, lustrous rubies makes the lord; tyrant squire to swell his wealth desolates the peasant’s tillth.
In my heart’s empire, see how He rides spitefully, rides with imperious will to ravage, and to kill!
Although the soul, I know, one day unveiled shall be, think not it shall be so by writhing endlessly.
Upon the road of high desire my load yet lieth in the mire, because my heart would still engage with trappings, caravan, and stage.
Whether the world be foul or fair, with a smile fare on; forth from the nest, the cage, the snare, the bower, be gone!
The days are ended of winter long; the branches quiver with living song.
What is this life? A pearl in thy own shell to bear, in the flame’s heart to hurl thyself, nor melt to air.
At home to loiter never did me please, A rover I, stranger in every land.
Beyond heaven’s shuttered dome I have found a way to come where swifter than thought may fly the breath of a morning sigh.
By the Saki’s eye heart-enflamed I lie; drunk without wine – O delight divine!
A sinner proud am I; no need I take, except I work for it; I rage, because men say He writ predestinate my wilful deed.
Thou didst turn my night to dawning; O Thou sun of presence bright, like the sun Thou art in brightness, light unveiled, most worthy light!
The world had lost its sight and the glass of the heart forsook, but an eye now sees the light that into the heart can look.
None other in this tavern is, Saki, to share my mysteries; am I the first (O who can tell) conceived in heaven, on earth to dwell?
No friend in the world entire thou wilt find sincere in solicitude go, lose thyself in thy self, and mind the honour of loverhood.
Tell me this: what is Thy share in this world of pain and care? Knowest Thou the spirit’s smart? Hast Thou an uneaseful heart?
The fine science thou dost learn after vision does not yearn; ‘tis no wanderer far astray, but a straggler on the way.
If a sight causes loss of self, it is better hidden from view: I do not accept the deal, Your price is too high.
Vision can be won as of morning sun, making this dark clay radiant as day.
Thy light defineth all things one by one: black, white, sea, mountain, valley, moon and sun;
Too oft was thy light with strangers to take wine, to suffer others’ light within the bowl to shine.
Give me the heart whose rapture fine flames from a draught of its own wine, and take the heart that, self-effaced, by alien fancy is embraced.
Love went searching thro’ the earth until Adam came to birth; out of water, out of clay manifested his display.
A hand of dust is all I own; I scatter it upon the way, because I hope that on a day it shall ascend to heaven’s throne.
Come! The Asiatic man has created a new plan: Go not, pilgrimage to make to the idol that he brake.
Let this heart Thou gavest me overflow with certainty, and my world-beholding glass all its radiance surpass.
I boast a love that is not grieved by being of To Be bereaved, whose infidelity doth ne’er the girdle of existence wear.
To passion’s slaves let no man e’er the mystery of Thy love declare: It is not meet for straws to hear talk of the blazing brazier.
The Saqi, pouring his pure wine upon my restless heart converts this quicksilver of mine to gold, by magic art.
Ah, the wine, the lute, the piping, the dear memories of old, when I held the brimming beaker and my friend a bowl of gold.
Brighter shall shine men’s clay than angels’ light, one day; earth through our Destiny turn to a starry sky.
Stars on my bosom shine wept from these eyes of mine: Lo, beyond heaven’s height; cast me the joy of sight;
I have never discovered well law’s way, and the wont thereof, but know him an infidel who denieth the power of Love.
Far, far from every other go with the One Friend upon the road; seek thou of God thy self to know, and seek in selfhood for thy God.
Leave no quarter to resist to this restless heart of mine give Thy curls another twist, let Thy tresses intertwine.
The world, but not selfhood, thou canst see; how long in thy ignorance wilt thou sit?
My soul, embattled with fortune ever, weeps like a river among the mountains.
In the accidents of night there is naught can me affright, seeing that the night is borne by the wheeling stars to morn.
In Thy hands I now deliver once again my restless heart; it will never cease from labour for the ease.
What man art thou, and where thy home? In the blue skies the stars have opened, to see thee come, a thousand eyes!
A single word sufficeth well the passion of a world to tell: The joy to view thee night to me moved me to this long history.
