غزل شمارهٔ 435

To the adversary, utter not the mysteries of love and of intoxication, So that, without knowledge (of love), in pain of self-worshipping, he may die.

(O Zahid !) the lover (of the true Beloved) be ; if not, one day, the world's work endeth ; (And), from the workshop of existence (the world), the picture of thy purpose unread (unattained, thou shall die).

Last night, in the assembly of the magians, to me how well said that idol : "If the idol, thou worship not, with the kafirs, what work (is) thine ?"

O my Sultan ! for God's sake, (exercise pity) ; us, thy (black) tress hath shattered ; Long-handedness like this, how long maketh the black ?

Veiled in the corner of safety, how can one be, As long as, to me, the mysteries of intoxication thy narcissus (eye) uttereth ?

These calamities that have arisen I had (fore-)seen that day, When, awhile with us, through perverseness, thou satest not.

O soul ! to the power of the deluge, thee, love will consign ; (Swiftly) like lightning, thou thoughtest that from this tumult, thou wouldst escape.