غزل شمارهٔ 2958

Minstrel, when you draw your plectrums over the strings, you draw into labor these idlers of the way.

Love, when you enter, you draw these tarriers in the world of separation to the Beloved.

Despite the highwaymen you make the world secure, you drag to the gallows the thieves of the heart city.

You see the cunning schemer, and cunningly blind him; when you see the friend, you draw him into the cave.

You bind a golden saddle on the nimble-footed horses; the evil pack-horses you draw to the baggage.

You cherish our melancholic ones every moment; our market-minded ones you drag very miserably.

To the thorn-enduring lovers you show the rose bower; you draw into the thorns the self-willed whose joy is but for a moment.

To him who enters the fire you give access to the water; he who runs to water, you drag him into the flames.

To Moses, dusty of face, you give the way to glory; Pharaoh, the seeker of pomp, you draw into disgrace.

This reversed horseshoe acts without how and why; Moses the stick-seeker, you draw into a serpent.