غزل شمارهٔ 280

When His (the true Beloved's) tress, ambergris-diffusing, the breeze (fate and destiny) dishevelled, Every shattered one, with whom it (the breeze) joined, his life fresh became.

A fellow-breather is where so that (to him) explanation of my grief, I may give From the time of separation from Him, what (torments) my heart endureth.

Of the leaves of the rose (the limbs of man), time made a token of Thy face (O true Beloved !) But (on looking- well), through shame of Thee, concealed it (man) in the rose-bud (the closed tomb).

Thou asleep ; and no limit appeared Thanks be to God for this Path (of love) that hath no end !

Perchance, the beauty of the Ka'ba (the true Beloved) desireth excuse (for want of union) of the way-farer (to the Ka'ba); For, in its desert, consumed the soul of those alive of heart (lovers of God).

To this shattered house of sorrow (the lover's body), who bringeth. From the pit of the (true Beloved's) chin trace of the Yusuf of the heart ?

That tress-tip (the world of evidence, or this world), I take ; and it to the khwaja's hand, I give, That, perchance, my justice from its hands he may take (and, holding me excused, may not drive me away).