غزل شمارهٔ 2006

Wherever you set your foot, my darling, tulip and violet and jasmine spring up.

You breathe upon a piece of clay, and it becomes either a dove or a kite.

You wash your hands in a dish and from the water of your hand that basin becomes of gold.

You recite the F¯atih. a over a grave and a Bu’l-Fut¯uh. raises his head from the winding-sheet.

Your skirt strikes against the clutch of a thorn, and its clutch becomes a strumming lute.

Every idol you have broken, O Abraham, receives life and finds intellect from that breaking.

Since the new moon shone upon an evil-starred one, it became the greatest good fortune and he escaped from misfortune.

Every moment there springs from the court of your breast a newborn without mother or father, like Adam.

And thereafter from his side and loins children abound in the earth.

I wanted to speak fifty couplets on this rhyme; I closed my lips, that you might open your mouth.