غزل شمارهٔ 656

Birds, who are now parted from your cage, show your faces again and declare where you are.

Your ship has stopped on this water, wrecked; like fishes, for one instant rise from this water.

Is it that the mould has broken and rejoined that Friend? Or has the trap slipped out of hand, and you are parted from the prey?

Are you today fuel to that fire of yourselves? Or has the fire in you died, and are you the light of God?

Has that wind become a pestilence and congealed you? Or has it become the breeze of the zephyr, wherever you enter?

There is an answer from your souls in every word that proceeds, even though you may not open your mouths to answer.

How many pearls you have broken in the mortar of the days! That is surmeh {collyrium} to the eyes; pound on, pound on!

You who have been born when you arrived at death, this is a second birth—be born, be born!

Whether you are born Hindu or Turk a second time will become clear on the day when you remove the veil.

And if it be that you have been worthy of Shams al-H. aqq of Tabriz, by Allah, you are the high chamberlains of the day of retribution.