غزل شمارهٔ 1789

Lovers, lovers, it is time to migrate from the world; the drum of departure is reaching my spirit’s ear from heaven.

See, the driver has arisen, the camel train is arrayed, he has begged us for quittance; caravaners, why are you asleep?

These sounds ahead and behind are the sounds of departure and the camel-bells; every moment a soul and a breath is setting off into placelessness.

From these inverted candles, from these indigo veils, there issues a wondrous people that the things unseen may become visible.

If heavy slumber fell upon you from this revolving sphere, alas for this light life! Beware of this heavy slumber!

Heart, depart to the Sweetheart; friend, depart to the Friend; watchman, be wakeful—a watchman should not sleep.

On every side are candles and torches, on every side noise and tumult, for tonight the pregnant world gives birth to the eternal world.

You were clay and became heart, you were ignorant and became intelligent; he who has drawn you on so far will draw you beyond [this world].

In drawing and drawing you his pains are delectable; his flames are like water, do not frown thereon.

His business is to dwell in the soul, his business to break penitence vows; by his abundant contrivance these motes are trembling at heart.

Laughing stock, jumping out of your hole as if to cry, “I am the lord of the land,” how long will you jump? Bend your neck, or they will bend you like a bow.

You sowed the seeds of deceit, you indulged in mockery, you deemed God nonexistent; now look, you cuckold!

Ass, you were apter for straw; a cauldron, you were better black; you were better at the bottom of the well, you disgrace to house and household!

In me there is Another from whom these angers leap; if water scalds, it is through fire—realize this!

I have no stone in my hand; I have no quarrel with anyone; I deal harshly with none, for I am gay as a rose bower.

My anger is therefore from that source, it is from the other world; this side a world, that side a world—I am seated on the threshold.

That man sits on the threshold who is mutely eloquent; you have uttered this hint, that is enough; say no more, draw back your tongue.