بخش 1 - تمهید

O bearer come and serve the old wine, Which gives an old man the youth’s new shine.

Give me a sweet tone, that by my breath own, Like torch I may lit up my flute’s gay tone.

Leave thy solitude cell for a while please, Ope thy bosom thus from the morning breeze.

For a tempo to world’s hustle and thrill, Raise thy tune and tone to song bird’s trill.

With times came unrest which passed so quick, It reared great satans and passed so quick.

Many Baghdads were raped by tyrants greal, It levelled their graves and passed like spate.

Those who had fears for the future days, They died yesterday before coming days.

Lucky are those whose dress of today, Is booming with success day by day.

Like nightingale you know not the groans and wails, You lack living soul in your set up frail.

This garden which gives the rose plucking right, You felt no pricks alas! for the thorns fright.

Come forward and learn the self seeing art, Learn the hard task and sufferings of heart.

If you wish clear vision of God the Great, Learn to see the self in a vivid state.

Give up the habit to weep on fate, Face the hard times with a courage great.

Dont you know that the water of a brook. When falls on stone, it gives a lovely look.

A gull said to shaver, nice witty thing, You cannot exist with the silken wing,

With a fondness great if you call Ya Hoo You can catch hawk’s head with a loving coo.

You had fallen then from a godly place, To courts of mean men you sought a close face.

Thou art a hawk, to self you cannot get, Until you are caught in thy self’s own net.

I hail that day when he turns to self’s bold, This is the faqr’s essence which makes him gold

The lasting life thus in certitude. lies, A thought when you follow the self then dies.

Like me you are too wrapped in a veil, You turn to self when that good day

I hail my fear of living takes, to Kufr’s camp hark! book’s knowledge leads to Kufr’s pitch dark.

A camel once said a nice word to foal, He’s lucky who knows to play his own role.

Learn from me a knack of desert tramps, To take thy own load from camps to camps.

I know many savants and gems of west, On being and non being they felt the same quest.

Bid me, tell to thee two words at least, To me please talk in accent of East.

Hark! O victim of wits of aliens few, For one heart you brought a score of griefs new.

Then Mullah’s views it was better to sit, With a self‐conscious sage with ego’s wit.

This being would last or just a passing show, The wise could not solve this knotty tie so.

He wrote a book though ‘on diving in sea’, To his heart’s sea ah! he could never see!

With battle axe smite the Bistoon Mountain, The time is short trust on sky too in vain.

Leave the wise men thus in their headaches own, Did the spark raised from the axe or from stone?

Keep the crave’s lamp burning ever in heart, Get the place where the uproars start.

Do not get lost in the world’s four nooks, Break the four nooks, and turn to self’s look.

O heart’s sea! no peace yet known to thee, The gloss of gems here, due to my glee.

O wave! thus guard thy own restive thrill, The noise of storms thus, due to thy will.

To both the worlds win with efforts and zeal, From thee never run for thy own self’s weal.

From light of past see the light of to day, To day you cant cut off from the last day.

You show us O Poppy! thy self’s own trace, And turned the hid mask of thy charming face.

I call you poppy when you show thy face, In branch what you looked? Where was thy trace?

A man weeps not from a grief or pains, No dust e’er falls, on his heart from strain.

If he e’er weeps you take it in this sense, His weeping is a part of love pangs trance.

If a tested man dies think not ever, He dies on the earth, there he dies never.

To thee thus suits a death of such state, Though dead yet lasts his self’s pleasant trait.

If thy dust has no link with soul and heart, No raincan moisten thy hearts’s any part.

Be free from griefs, guard breath with His hum, In man full of dam no griefs can come.

My each breath blows with griefs many more, My friends share not my griefs anymore.

Yet future can be shaped to large extent, If you know the great price of each instant.

A young who tied heart with ego’s call, He swam quite safe, along seas, and rivers all.

No harm if you relish a decent scene, Keep an eye on heart that the hands are clean.

Such griefs this heart now likes to take, Like dust of low things of humble make.

To those sweet griefs alas! we know not, Which make a man great with higher ‘thought.

Blame not the God for this or that hurt, This dust should be dusted from thy skirt.

Change the heinous world whose bad nature yet, Gives lead to bookies to take the whole bet.

Turn out fire of envy from thy heart’s core, Like smoke of house through the ventilator or door.

No tax ever pay on heart’s yield to none, To make the lands barren O! landlord shun.

In his nights behold many dawns bright, Both the words are bright from his moon’s light

I give thee some signs for that Muslim’s trace, He welcomes his death with a smiling face.

To the morning breeze’ weep’d the dew’ in trance, I cherish from thee a favour of glance.

I have fostered gloom from the Rose,’ alas! Thus pass in a way that I fall on grass.