غزل شمارهٔ 3071

Heart, you are the phoenix of union. Fly, why do you not fly? No one recognizes you, neither man nor peri.

You are the sweetheart, not the heart; but with every device and trickery you have taken the shape of the heart so that you will ravish a thousand hearts.

For a moment faithfully you mingle with earth, and for a moment you pass beyond empyrean and firmament and the bounds of the two worlds.

Why does not spirit find you, for you are its wings and feathers? Why does not sight see you who are the source of sight?

What power has penitence to repent of you? What is consciousness that it should remain conscious along with you?

What shall be that poor copper when the alchemy comes? Will it not pass away from copperhood into the attribute of gold?

Who is that poor seed when the springtime comes? Does not its seedhood pass away into treehood?

Who is poor brushwood when it falls into the fire? Is not the brushwood transformed into a spark by the flame?

All reason and science are stars; are you the sun of the world who tear asunder their veils?

The world is like snow and ice, and you are the season of summer; when you, king, are on its track, no trace of it remains.

Say, who am I to remain along with you? I and a hundred like me will pass away when you gaze towards me.

The perfection of the description of the lord Shams-i Tabr¯ız¯ı surpasses the imaginations of predestinator and free-willer.