غزل شمارهٔ 735

Last night our elephant remembered India again, in frenzy he was rending the veil of night till dawn.

Last night the flagons of the sakis were all overbrimming— O may our life be like last night till the day of resurrection!

The wines were bubbling and the reasons were senseless on account of him; may part and whole, thorn and rose be happy because of his lovely face!

The cup-on-cup clamour of the drunkards mounted to heaven; in our hands was the wine, and in our heads the wind.

Thousands of uproars fell upon the skies because of these, there hundreds of thousands of Kai-Qub¯ads were fallen prostrate.

The day of triumph and good fortune was contained in our night; of the brethren of purity night suddenly gave birth to such a day.

The sea broke into waves; heaven received a token of this night, and in pride set that token on its head and face.

Whatever ways humanity had closed in darkness, the light of divinity in compassion was opening up.

How should the sensible forms on account of that passion remain in place? How should he remain in place who attains this desire?

Begin life anew, Moslems! For the Beloved has converted non-entity into being, and dispensed justice to the lovers.

Our Beloved henceforward holds the fallen to be pardonable, because wherever He is the saki no one remains on the right course.

The surging of the sea of grace, Moslems, has wrecked the pomp of personal effort and the programme of belief.

That grace is King S.al¯ah. al-D¯ın, for he is a Joseph whom the Lord of Egypt himself must purchase at a great price.