غزل شمارهٔ 2828

Tidings are newly arrived—do you perhaps have no news of it? The envious heart has turned to blood; perhaps you have no heart.

The moon has shown his face, opened the wings of light; borrow a heart and eyes from someone if you do not have any.

Amazing, night and day a flying arrow comes from the hidden bow; yield your life to this arrow. What can you do? You have no shield.

Has not the copper of your being been changed, like Moses, to gold by His alchemy? What care? Though you have no gold in your bag like Korah?

Within you is an Egypt whose sugarcane bed you are; what care, though you have no supply of sugar from without?

You have become the slave of form, like the idol-worshipers; you are like Joseph, but within you do not gaze.

By God, when you see your own beauty in the mirror you will be your own idol, you will not pass over to anyone.

O Reason, are you not unjust to call him like the moon? Why do you call him moon? Perhaps you have no sight.

Your head is like a lamp containing six wicks; from what are all six alight, if you have not that spark?

Your body is like a camel which travels to the Kaaba of the heart; out of assishness you have not gone on the pilgrimage, not because you have no ass.

If you have not gone to the Kaaba, felicity will draw you on; do not flee, idler, for you have no means of passing from God.