Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

25

Of every image that the heart

Takes from the eye—I have no part;

Perception weigheth not with me,

I beg for pure reality.

Anon a touch of madness lies

In the conventions of the wise;

I come with collar torn, a fool,

For all I went to wisdom’s school.

Anon I wrap me in the world,

Anon about me ‘tis enfurled;

Pass round the wine, and pass again,

That I may break this tangled skein.

No Saqi’s glance enchants me here,

Nor any talk of love sincere;

From Mullah’s board and Sufi’s feast

I nothing gain but care increased.

‘Th time that they had much to do

With me, thy choice and favoured few:

The desert was my upbringing;

I fearless stride before the king.