Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

13

Of the Sultan I would take

One gaze, if so I may;

Muslim I, I do not make

A god of clay.

See, the independent heart

That in my breast I bear

To the beggar doth impart

A regal air.

What doth on the tulip fall

Out of the starry sky,

O’er the verdant herbage all

Now scatter I.

Ranging through the Infinite

My thought begs never boon,

As the Pleiades crave light

From sun and moon.

But if any wandering sun

Toward my path should stray,

With a smile I make it run

Far from the way.

With the lustre and the flame

That Nature hath endowed

Like a lightning-flash

I gleam In a dark cloud.

Well I know the wont and way

Of them that rule, aloof

Joseph’s in the well, and they

Asses. on roof!