غزل شمارهٔ 892

The month of fasting has come, the emperor’s banner has arrived; withhold your hand from food, the spirit’s table has arrived.

The soul has escaped from separation and bound nature’s hands; the heart of error is defeated, the army of faith has arrived.

The army of the snorting chargers has put its hand to plunder, from the fire of the strikers of fire the soul is brought to lamentation.

The Cow was goodly, Moses son of ‘Imr¯an appeared; through him the dead became living when it was sacrificed.

Fasting is as our sacrifice, it is the life of our soul; let us sacrifice all our body, since the soul has arrived as guest.

Fortitude is as a sweet cloud, wisdom rains from it, because it was in such a month of fortitude that the Koran arrived.

When the carnal soul is in need, the spirit goes into Ascension; when the gate of the prison is broken, the soul reaches the Beloved.

The heart has rent the curtain of darkness and winged up to the sky; the heart, being of the angels, has again arrived at them.

Quickly clutch the rope out of this body’s well; at the top of the well of water cry, “Joseph of Canaan has arrived.”

When Jesus escaped from the ass his prayers became accepted; wash your hands, for the Table has arrived from heaven.

Wash your hands and your mouth, neither eat nor speak; seek that speech and that morsel which has come to the silent ones.