The Wine Remaining Ghazal-37

There is no master who does not Adore Him like a slave. There is no slave who, if he were A master, would not bid for Him.

Although the preacher talks a lot Concerning Moses and Sinai, The mirror of his talk does not reflect The light of that theophany.

Our guide thinks it expedient To speak in metaphors; But otherwise he has nothing to do With fair faced ones.

Attach your heart to Him and shun These wearers of patched clothes. Do not become the quarry of gazelles Which do not come from His own Tartary.

You want a melody of peace Played on my lute. How am I to extract from it a tone That is not in its strings?

My heart applied the qashqa to the brow, And took to Brahmins’ ways; But did so in a manner which Did not befit its sacred thread.

Love speaks out in the company That it finds in the tavern. In idol house and in Harem. It finds no confidant.