غزل شمارهٔ 853

The sea can always dispense with the fish, for in comparison with the sea the fish is contemptible.

You will not find fish, my soul, like the sea of the ocean; in the sea of God’s ocean there are many fish.

The sea is like a nurse, the fish like a sucking child; the wretched infant is always weeping for milk.

Yet for all this indifference, if the sea should compassionately incline towards a fish, great will be the grace;

And that fish which knows that the sea is seeking him—his foot in pride rises above the ether.

That fish which—the sea does no task without the fish’s opinion is its counsellor—

You might say that so highly favoured a fish is an emperor, and that infinite sea is his minister.

If anyone should dare to call him a fish, every drop in his wrath would be as an arrow.

How long will you speak in riddles? Your riddles bring bewilderment; expound a little more clearly, that the heart may perceive.

Worshipful Shams-i D¯ın is both Lord and Master, for by him the earth of Tabriz is all musk and ambergris.

Should the thorns of the world behold his graces, in softness and delicacy they would become like silk.

May I never have a soul, if my soul after tasting his wine and being drunk with his beauty is self-aware.