غزل شمارهٔ 2120

Once more our [crescent] moon has reaped a harvest, and we have paraded forth despite the foe.

Once more the sun has entered Aries, made the world to laugh like a rose garden.

The blossoms have mirthfully opened their lips, the lily has slily become a tongue.

What satins they have put on in the garden for that tailor who has no scissors or needle!

Every tree has set on its head a tray full of sweetmeats without syrup and oil.

We have made our bellies a drum once more, since the drummer of spring began drumming.

The surface of the water, which in winter was as iron, has become ruffled like chainmail by the wind;

Perchance the early spring is the David of time, who has fashioned a coat of armor out of that iron.

God proclaimed in nonexistence, “Ho, herbs: Those cold ones have left the dwelling.

“Turn your faces to the height of existence like the birds of Abraham from their nest.”

That gnostic crane has returned from exile, about him the stammering birds uttering praises.

The routed ones who had become hidden have each put their head out of the window.

The greenclads have put forth their heads, ear and neck full of collars and jewels.

It is concert, and thousands of houris in the garden are stamping their feet on the tomb of January.

Ho, willow, awake and move your head and ears, if you have bright eyes like the narcissus.

I say to speech, “Abandon me”; speech is contentious, it is coming after me.

I do not desire, because of his hard face, to declare the talk of lovers.

The rose calls, “Ye Midianite, rejoice with us whoever was sorrowful.”

The earth has become verdant with light, and God has said to the naked, “Adorn yourself.”

The fugitives have returned to life, the d¯ıv¯an of the resurrection is now organized.

By God’s command they died, then they came to life. He made them decay for a while, then made them fair.

God’s sun is rising with bounty, the proof of His handiwork is established.

We have dyed the plants without a dye, we measure their size without a mold.

Paradise on paradise on paradise—dazzles one, take up your home therein.

We have stirred up the souls to the heights; this one has attained union, that one played the Pharaoh.

Ah, be silent and address them with silence, for silence is more revealing of secrets.