Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre مفتعلن مفاعلن مفتعلن مفاعلن (رجز مثمن مطوی مخبون).
How sweet it is to give speech and head, to converse with his lip, especially when he opens the door and says, “Good sir, come in!”
I have come so that, tugging your ear, I may draw you to me, unheart and unself you, plant you in my heart and soul.
The Friend is toggling me like a camel; in what train is He dragging His drunken camel?
We two or three gay reprobates have gathered together on this side like camels, face to face, muzzles plunged in the provender.
I become not satiated with you—this is my only sin; be not satiated with compassion for me, O my refuge in both worlds!
If any man asks you about the houris, show your face, saying, “Like this”; if any man speaks to you of the moon, get up onto the roof—“Like this.”