Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

70

In the mead a tulip blows

In whose breast no yearning glows,

A narcissus, languid too,

Yet it lacked the eye to view.

Billowing breath was in the clay,

But no heart did it display;

Caravan upon the road–

Such was life, yet where the load?

Time itself was void and free

Of the topers’ song of glee,

Wine was in the glass aflame

Yet was none to quaff the same.

Sinai’s lightning made complaint

That desire was dumb and faint;

In the peaceful valley there

Silent was the voice of prayer.

Love upon our woe expressed

Builds anew the great unrest,

Else no murmur ever stirs

From these silent banqueters.