Wednesday, November 27, 2013

(Pas Che Bayad Kard-24) Ghazal - Az Dair-e-Maghan...

I come from the temple of Magians
intoxicated with the passing of wine.
I was inebriate with the wine of Illa (Affirmation)
in the state of La (Negation).
I know his eyes perceives the capacity of every person,
the saqi has made me ecstatic by his blandishment and beckoning.
it is time I should again open the tavern of Rumi.
I have seen the custodian of the Harem intoxicated in the churchyard.
It is not the work of a philosopher, catch hold
of the hem of a Moses, who conversed with God.
A hundred persons enrapt with the shore
and but one tipsy with the river.
I took my heart to the garden where it became numb with the breeze
It dies in a park, this tulip stimulated by the desert.
From his delightful words, the secrets of the Harem shine out.
I saw a mini-infidel yesterday intoxicated
in the valley of Bat’ha
Is this Sinai or Faran? O God, what is this place?
Each particle of my dust is an eye lost in beholding.
The garment of that Interstise that cannot be crossed.
I behold in his saying: For me two garbs: Continence and Jihad
Both his Faith and system expositions of the whole;
on his forehead inscribed the destiny of all.
Intellect made him knower of secrets,
and love a matchless sword.
He is the destination of the caravan of ardour,
we are but a pinch of dust and he the heart thereof.
To see his outside is our Asra,
and in his inner self is our Aqsa.
From his garment I sensed his perfume;
he gave us the shout of Allah-hu.
What did my reckless love do to my heart?
Whatever tempestuous wine to the flask.
It leapt in the breast because of wild rapture
till it rushed out of the eyes.
It said: I am Gabriel and radiant light;
I never saw him like this before.
It recited lines from Rumi, laughed and wept,
O God! who is this Sage gone wild?
It talked to me so volubly in the sanctuary,
talking of wine, Magian pages and wine cups.
I asked it what audacious words these be;
close your lips for this is a solemn occasion.
I have nurtured you with by blood and made you fit
for raising a morning sigh.
Note again this point you who understand,
the love of disciplined lovers is naught but restraint.
It said: Reason and restraint are a blight for the heart,
ecstasy and frenzy are its nature.
It raised shouts upon shouts till it fell into prostration;
there was only the flame of its voice but itself no more!


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