غزل شمارهٔ 2239

I went to the master’s street and said, “Where is the master?” They said, “The master is a lover and is drunk and wandering from street to street.”

I said, “I have a duty, at least you give me a clue; after all, I am the master’s friend, not an enemy.”

They said, “The master has fallen in love with that gardener; seek him in the garden or beside the stream.”

Drunkards and lovers go after their beloved; if a man has fallen in love, go and wash your hands from him.

The fish that has known water remains not on land; how should a lover stay in the sphere of color and scent?

The frozen snow that has seen the face of yon sun is devoured by the sun, though it be heap on heap.

Especially he who is in love with our king, a king peerless, faithful, sweet-tempered.

Any copper which that infinite, immeasurable, incomparable alchemy touches becomes gold at the word Return.

Sleep away from the world, and flee from the six directions; how long will you foolishly wander and roam hither and thither?

Eventually in the end they will bring you of your own choice, go with glory and honor before the king.

Had there not been a meddler in the midst, Jesus would have revealed the mystery line by line.

I have closed the road of the mouth and opened the secret way; I have escaped by one cup of wine from the frenzy of speech.