Book in this metre
This page shows only poems in the metre فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلاتن فاعلن (رمل مثمن محذوف).
Last night from the Masjed towards the wine tavern our Pir came: O friends of the Path! after this, what is our plan?
O! the splendor of the moon-beauty from the illumined face of Thine! The lustre of beauteousness from the chin-dimple of Thine!
I said: “O Sultan of lovely ones! show pity to this poor stranger.” He said: “In the desire of his own heart, loseth his way the wretched stranger.”
What men of our closed circle call “the Night of Power” to-night is. O Lord! from what constellation, this effect of fortune is?
The court of the garden is joy-giving; and the society of friends, pleasant; Pleasant, be the time of the rose, whereby the time of wine-drinkers is pleasant.
Welcome! O Messenger of the Longing Ones, give the message of the Friend. That, with the essence of pleasure, I may make my soul a sacrifice for the Friend.
The Zahed, outward worshipper! Of our state, knowledge is none. In respect of us, whatever he saith, room for abhorrence is none.
A nightingale had a rose-leaf, pleasant of hue in his beak, And, on that leaf and pleasant food, bitter lamentation held.
If from the hand of Thy musky tress, a fault passed, it passed: And, if against us from Thy dark mole, an act of tyranny passed, it passed.
Friendship in none, I perceive. To friends what hath happened? Friendship ended when? To friends what hath happened?
The admonishers who, in the prayer-arch and the pulpit, grandeur make, When into their chamber they go, that work of another kind they make.