غزل شمارهٔ 2523

Fire-worshiping heart of mine who spins like a ball in the fire, say to the saki, “Quick now, a glass of lees to begin with!”

Come, lip-biting saki, cook with that wine the raw ones; bravo, garden and orchard and vine from which you pressed the grapes!

I will give a hint which no one gives; the hint is this, O fair of stature, that on that night you transported me unselfed, you committed me over to that moonface of mine.

You, reason, do you remember how, when the king of reason out of love bestowed that fiery wine on me, at the first breath you died?

That darling brought two dishes, one of fire, one full of gold; if you take gold, it becomes fire, and if you set on fire, you win the game.

See the proud saki! Extinguish that pretty fire! What do you know of the power of the fire, for there you are a little child?

Get out of the fire, you will rise happy out of Shams al-D¯ın-i Tabr¯ız¯ı; and if you flee into the gold, like gold you will have congealed.