غزل شمارهٔ 1604

Give me that last night’s wine, for I am intoxicated by your potion; H. ¯atim of the world, give into my hand a huge cup.

Saki of true men, turn not your face from me for one moment; do not break my heart, else I shall break cup and glass.

A cup was in my hand, I flung it down and broke it; I wounded the soles of a hundred naked feet with that glass.

You are a glass-worshipper because your liquor is from glass; my wine is not of must, so why should I worship glass?

Drink, my heart, the spiritual wine, and sleep secure and free of care; for I have beheaded anguish, I have escaped from sorrow and anguish.

My heart has gone up, my body has gone down; where am I, the helpless one? I am neither above nor below.

What a fine hanging apple am I, who cannot endure without your stone! How should I endure without bal¯a if I am drunk with alast?

Ask of me, what a treasure this love is and what it holds; ask concerning me also of him, that he may say who I am.

Why do you hang about the riverbank? Leap from the river, if you are a true man; leap from the river and seek for me, for I have leaped from the river.

If you remain, we remain, and if you go, we depart; when you ate I ate, when you sat I sat.

I am that drunken drummer who went drunk into the arena, I tied my drum like a flag to the top of my lance.

What a happy and unselfed king you are! Ho, silent as a fish— since I have escaped from being, why do you draw me back to being?