غزل شمارهٔ 1022

Yesterday at dawn passing by the Beloved said to me, “You are distraught and unaware; how long will this go on?

My cheek is the envy of the rose; and have you filled your eye with heart’s blood in quest of the thorn?”

I said, “Before your stature the cypress is but a sapling!” I said, “Before your cheek the heavens’ candle is dark!”

I said, “Sky and earth are topsy-turvy on account of you; it is no wonder therefore, if I have no access to you.”

He said, “I am your soul and heart; why are you distracted? Say no word, and remain weeping against my silvery bosom.”

I said, “You who have robbed my heart and soul of repose, I have not the power to be still.” He said at once,

“You are a drop of my sea; why do you utter still? Become drowned, and fill the soul of the oyster shell with pearls.”