Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre مفتعلن مفتعلن مفتعلن مفتعلن (رجز مثمن مطوی).
My Beloved leaves me not so much as to scratch my own head; it is the body of my Beloved that presses me in its breast.
I cried out at midnight, “Who is in this house of the heart?” He said, “It is I, by whose countenance the sun and the moon are put to shame.”
I was dead, I became alive; I was weeping, I became laughing; the power of love came, and I became everlasting power.
Of these two thousand I’s and we’s I wonder, which one am I? Give ear to my babble, do not lay your hand on my mouth.
When laughter leaps forth from me, I keep laughter hidden from him; I make a sour face at him; I shout and scream at him.
Whatever comes of the world’s affairs, how does that affect your business? If the two worlds have become an idol-temple, where is that roguish idol of yours?
Happy-cheeked saki of mine, give the cup like pomegranate blossom; if for my sake you will not give for the sake of the heart of the Beloved.