غزل شمارهٔ 887

A little fox carried off the sheep’s tail; was the lion perchance asleep? The blind and blue fox does not carry off its own life from the lion.

The lion purposely gave way, otherwise who would believe this, that the lame fox stole the sheep’s tail from the lion?

He says, “A wolf ate Joseph son of Jacob”; even the lion of the skies cannot loose its talons on him.

Every moment the inspiration of God is guarding our hearts; how should the envious devil snatch our felicity from us?

God’s hand is outstretched; do not seek to cheat God’s hand; whoever sows a grain in God’s path reaps barleycorn by barleycorn.

Whoever humiliates you, go, commit him to God; whoever seeks to dismay you, quickly turn your face to God.

Agony and fear and suffering are God’s lasso; pain brings you pulling at your ear to the portal of bounty.

“Lord, Lord!” exclaiming, face to heaven turning, tears from your eyes running over your pale cheeks like a river—

Green herbage sprung from the water over your desolate heart and soul, dawn stripping off the veil—That is the Day of Eternity.

If Pharaoh’s head had ached with pain and tribulation, how would that rebel have uttered the boast of divinity?

When the moment of drowning arrived he cried, “I am the least of slaves”; unbelief became faith, and he saw, when calamity showed its face.

Withhold not suffering from your body; plunge it into the current of the Nile, so that your Pharaoh-like body may be purified of stubborn denial.

The carnal soul is prince in Egypt, it is a prisoner in the current of the Nile; be like Gabriel over it, bring smoke out of the aloes-wood.

It is a miserly aloes-wood, it will not convey scent to you nor unlock its secret until it endures fire and smoke.

The Pride of Tabriz, Shams-i H. aqq u D¯ın whispered, “Love is sour-faced with you: it is not fitting to add more vinegar.”