Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre مفعول مفاعیلن مفعول مفاعیلن (هزج مثمن اخرب).
Rise up, for Adam’s hour of manifestation has come; the stars bow down before this handful of dust.
From my handful of dust You draw out a hundred laments; you are nearer than the soul – for all Your shy reserve.
Like the dervish drunken be quaff the winecup instantly, and, when thou art bolder grown, hurl thyself on Jamshid’s throne.
Better is the robbers’ train than the heaven-pacing brain, better one distress of heart than all Plato’s learned art.
The fine science thou dost learn after vision does not yearn; ‘tis no wanderer far astray, but a straggler on the way.
Let this heart Thou gavest me overflow with certainty, and my world-beholding glass all its radiance surpass.
Stars on my bosom shine wept from these eyes of mine: Lo, beyond heaven’s height; cast me the joy of sight;
In the accidents of night there is naught can me affright, seeing that the night is borne by the wheeling stars to morn.
This brand of grief, His love apart, hath sown a garden in my heart; O desert-flame anemone, I have a word to say to thee!
I am a slave set free, and Love still leadeth me; Love is my leader still, mind bows to do my will.
