غزل شمارهٔ 2566

The physician of the soul brought a tray as a present; if you are a doting old man you will become fair and youthful.

It gives life to the body, intoxication to the soul; it takes away from the heart’s slackness, from the cheeks’ pallor.

That was the tray of Jesus, it became the inheritance of the physicians; you will find in it the antidote, if you have swallowed the poison of death.

You who seek that tray, turn your face to this qibla; when you turn your face thither, you will become the moonfaced of the world.

There is a pill hidden there which touches not the teeth, neither wet nor dry, neither hot nor cold.

Through that pill smaller than a grain you will come to the top of that dome, for that has become the dwelling place of Jesus; and that grain, for all its smallness,

Has become a protection, and every powerless man seeks the protection of your generosity; never will he whom you have nourished become lean.

I said to the physician of the soul, “Today in thousands of ways there is a sure footing, since you have trodden firmly.”

He to whom you have given a place will never be by aught displaced; grief will not pare that heart which you have pared of grief.

Be silent and hush your words now that the test has befallen you; say farewell to pledges, you are free of those pledges.