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The Union |
O Nightingale! The rose whose search made me flounced
By dint of good luck that rose I have finally found
I used to flounce myself, I used to make others flounced
I used to feel shy when I found you singing beautifully
A mere restless heart was not in my bosom, it was mercury
I was impatient for fulfillment of the Longing of Love
My misfortune was famous in the assembly of the rose
My morning was the reflection of my dark night
With my breath I have a blood‑stained knife in the bosom
Under the cloak of silence I have Judgment Day’s uproar |
Now that distress does not exist in my reflections’ world
My reciting ghazals is no longer irksome to rose garden’s assembly
With the heat of Love my blisters became flames
Now playing with thunderbolts are my wailings
The rouge of Love has changed this dark dust into a mirror
And I see the old companion’s reflection in the mirror
By becoming a prisoner I gained my freedom
By ruining the heart I got prosperity for my house
My star is shining with this sun’s light
By whose path’s dust the moon light is shy
By a glance you taught me the rules of annihilation
How cool the day that has burnt away the motes from me |
Translated by: M.A.K. Khalil |
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