The admonishers who, in the prayer-arch and the pulpit, grandeur make, When into their chamber they go, that work of another kind they make.
A difficulty, I have. Ask the wisp ones of the assembly, Why those ordering penitence, themselves penitence seldom make?
Thou mayst say, they have no belief in the day of judgment, That, in the work of the Ruler, ail this fraud and deceit they make.
O Lord! Place these newly-enriched ones upon their own asses: Because, on account of a Turk slave and a mule, all this arrogance, they make.
O beggar of the monastery! Leap up. For, in the cloister of the magians! They give a little water; and hearts strong make.
As much as his boundless beauty slayeth the lover, From the invisible, their head in love, raised another crowd make.
O angel! Utter the tasbih at the door of love’s tavern For within, Adam’s clay, dough they make.
At dawn, from God’s throne, came a shout: wisdom spake: Thou mayst say that chanting of the verse of Hafez, the holy ones make.
