غزل شمارهٔ 14

Like the dervish drunken be quaff the winecup instantly, and, when thou art bolder grown, hurl thyself on Jamshid’s throne.

‘This our world’, they asked of me, ‘is’t congenial to thee?’ ‘Nay’, I answered; and they cried, ‘break and strew it far and wide!’

In the taverns I saw none meet to be companion; get thee less with tavern-boys smite with Rustam and rejoice!

Tulip in the desert bright, burn thou not in lonely light; let thy heart consuming glow blaze in Adam’s bosom, too.

Thou’rt His fiery inward mood, thou the fever of His blood; dost thou not believe? Go; rend this world’s body, end to end.

Is the Mind thy lamp? To-day, set it out upon the war; if thy beaker Love? Drink wine with some trusty mate of thine.

Ah, my heart is all aglow, from mine eves the blood streams flow; see, my ruby offering; take, and wear this in thy ring.