غزل شمارهٔ 2693

In body you are with us, in heart you are in the meadow; you are the quarry yourself when attached to the hunt.

You are girdled here in the body like a reed, inwardly you are like a restless wind.

Your body is like the diver’s clothes on the shore; you like a fish, your course is in the water.

In this sea are many bright veins, many veins too that are dark and black;

The brightness of the heart derives from those bright veins; you will discern them when you lift your wings.

In those veins you are hidden like the blood, and if I lay a finger, you are shy.

From those veins the voice of the sweet-veined lute is melancholy, reflecting the grace of that melancholy.

Those melodies come from the shoreless sea which thunders like waves out of the infinite.