غزل شمارهٔ 644

Since your image dwelt within the house of our breasts, wherever we sit has become like highest paradise.

Those thoughts and imaginings that were as Gog and Magog—each one has become like a houri’s cheek and a doll of China.

That image on account of which men and women all weep, if it was once an evil companion, has now become an excellent companion.

Above all a garden has grown, below all is a treasure—what manner of thing are you, that through you the world has become so?

From that day when we beheld him we augment daily; the thorn that sought him out has become a veritable rosebower.

Every unripe grape has become a ripe grape from the sun and has become full of sugar, and that black stone too through the sun has become a precious ruby.

Many an earth there is that by God’s preference has become a heaven, many a left hand through the palm of divine favour has become a right hand.

If once he was darkness to the heart, now he has become the heart’s window; if once he was a footpad of the faith, now he has become the leader of religion.

If it was the well of calamity that was Joseph’s prison, on account of his coming forth it became the firm cord.

Every particle like the army of God is subject to God’s command; to the servant of God it has proved security, to the infidel it has become as an ambush.

Silence! For your speech is as the Nile—to the Copts like blood, to the Israelites a pure well.

Silence! For your speech is a ripe fig, only not every bird of the air is suitable for figs.