غزل شمارهٔ 1615

If I am hand-clapping, I belong not to the clappers; I am neither of this nor of that, I am of that mighty city.

I am not for fluting and gambling, I am not for wine and liquor, I am neither leaven nor crop-sickness, I am neither like this nor like that.

If I am drunk and dissolute, I am not drunk with wine like you; I am not of earth nor of water, I am not of the people of time.

The mind of the son of Adam—what knowledge has it of this utterance? For I am hidden by two hundred veils from the world entire.

Hear not these words as from me, nor from this clear thought, for I neither receive nor seize this outward and inward.

Though your face is beautiful, the cage of your soul is of wood; run away from me or you will burn, for my tongue is a flame.

I am not of scent nor colour, I am not of fame nor shame; beware of my poplar arrow, for God is my bow.

I seize not raw wine, nor borrow from anyone, I seize neither breath nor snare, O my youthful fortune.

I am as the rosebower of paradise, I am the joy-garden of the world, for my spirit is flowing through the spirits of all men.

The sugarbed of your phantom brings rose-sugar to me; in the garden of realities I scatter the rose of a hundred petals.

When I enter the rose-showering garden of union with you, make me sit down, for I am a target for your brand.

Love, what a mate you are, how strange, how marvellous! When you seized my mouth, my expression went inwards.

When my soul reaches Tabriz, to come to Shams al-H. aqq u D¯ın, I will bring to an end all the secrets of speech.