The Wine-shop of the West

I well recall the days That I spent in the Wine Shop of the West. Its wine bowls shine Like Alexander’s looking glass.

Its saki’s eyes are as Intoxicating as its wine, And every glance of theirs conveys A message to some drinker’s breast.

But O it has no Moses to Experience epiphanies, No Abraham to undergo Ordeals by fire.

There Intellect with careless ease Robs Love of its entire Possessions, and there is no heat In its air of a fervent sigh. No one is so intoxicated by Its wine as to sway on his feet.

Dialogue between Lenin and Kaiser Wilhelm

It is long since in this old world poor man Is being ground like grain between millstones

He has been duped by Kaisers and by Czars, And has been caught in the snare of the Church.

Have you not seen the hungry slave at last Tear to shreds his lord’s garment, dyed red with His blood?

Democracy’s spark has burnt up The robes of the Church elders and the kings.

The Kaiser

Why blame idols for their winsome ways? It is in the Brahmin’s nature to adore.

He keeps fashioning new idols; for He gets bored stiff with the ones he has.

Do not tell me of the highwaymen: His own robber is the traveler here.

If you crown the common people, then You will find oppression is still there.

Never does greed die out of men’s hearts: In a furnace fire must always blaze.

Power’s sorceress has the same arts Irrespective of the part she plays.

“Shirin’s beauty never goes abegging: Khusroes or Farhads are never lacking.”