|My Saki made me drink the wine of There is no god but He:|
From the illusive world of sense, this cup divine has set me free.
|Now I find no charm or grace in song and ale, or harp and lute:|
To me appeal the tulips wild, the riverside and mountains mute.
|My flagon small is blessing great, for the age athirst and dry:|
In the cells where mystics swell big empty gourds are lying by.
|In love a novice I am yet, much good for you to keep apart,|
For my glance is restive more than my wild and untam’d heart.
|The dark unfathomed caves of sea, hold gems of purest ray serene:|
The gems retain in midst of brine their essence bright and clean.
|Through the poet’s quickening gaze the rose and tulip lovelier seem:|
No doubt, the minstrel’s piercing glance is nothing less than magic gleam.
Translated by: Syed Akbar Ali Shah