غزل شمارهٔ 2429

Circumambulating about your moon, the moon and sky and Jupiter, the sun and hooplike sphere come into your sphere—

O lord, am I seeking you or are you seeking me? O my shame! So long as I am, I am one and you are another;

Suspending us and me, shedding the blood of both, raising up something else, neither of man nor peri.

Let foot not remain, for foot carries us to the thorn bush; let head not remain, for the head becomes infidel through twoheadedness.

One water flowing amidst the stream, one water frozen on the bank of the stream; the former swift, the latter sluggish; beware, swift one, lest you congeal.

The sun says to the stone, “For this reason I shone on your stone, that you might escape from stoniness and set foot on gemhood.”

The sun of eternal love has shone in your heart; first, that your servanthood might increase, and lastly, that you might show mastery.

The sun says to the unripe grape, “I have come to your kitchen so that you may not sell vinegar anymore but make a trade of sweetmaking.”

The king says to the falcon, “I bound up your eyes so that you may break with your own kind and only regard my face.”

The falcon says, “Yes, I am obedient; only on your beauty I gaze, only by your image I pass, and serve you with my soul.”

The rose says to the garden, “I displayed my robes so that you might sell all your wares and make do with me.”

He who takes gold from here and makes do with another beloved—sit awry and say truly, what is that from? From assishness?

That is a man who gives up the ass to buy Jesus; it is of assishness that you give up Jesus to buy the ass.

Jesus turns the drunkard into gold, and if he be gold, makes him into a jewel; if a jewel, he makes him better still, better than the moon and Jupiter.

You are not a Jupiter without worth, but the light of God has purchased: if you have anything of Joseph, you take the scent of this shirt.

To me, as to Mary, dates come forth from a withered branch without cause; to me, like Jesus, mastership comes unasked in the cradle.

See the grapes without garden and vine, the light without day and night; this glorious fortune, given by God without the process of judgment.

Through my firelike face the world’s bath became hot; like children weep less for a picture painted on the bathhouse wall.

Tomorrow you will see its face become food for snake and mouse, those narcissus eyes a gateway of ants.

You are the moonshine driven to the moon, the wall left dark; to Him we return has come true—Look yonder, if you can see.

Or go to Tabriz, enjoy Shams al-D¯ın, or believe the words of the truthful describers.