To The Readers




Tumultuous Love where’er it rove

Whence sprang the flaming fire

O bring me back the singing

Thou who didst make more ardent

Out of our dust thou stirrest

Though dust, and dark as dust, am I

With a song of agony

On faith and infidelity

A flame is in my minstrelsy

All the dear delight to see

Though the falcon of the brain

What is the world? The temple of my thought

It is the season of the spring

From life and being’s twisted skein

Rise! and upon the thirsty land

Thinkest thou that to the threshold

With a glance at us who sit by the way

Better is the robbers’ train

Or no more command the Muslim

Intellect is passion too

All that in life I love the best

The night grows late, the route is up

Saqi, on my heart bestow

The juice that maketh tulips spring

Of every image that the heart

Against the light, an infidel

Why in the concourse dost thou seek

Faith and infidelity

Thine is the hawk upon the wing

One step on friendship’s road

In my heart’s empire, see

Upon the road of high desire

The days are ended

At home to loiter never did me please

By the Saqi’s eye

Thou didst turn my night to dawning

None other in this tavern is

Tell me this: what is thy share

If vision self-effacement bring

Thy light defineth all things one by one

Give me the heart whose rapture fine

A hand of dust is all I own

Let this heart thou gayest me

To passion’s slaves let no man e’er

Ah, the wine, the lute, the piping

Stars on my bosom shine

The East, that holds the heavens fast

Leave no quarter to resist

My soul, embattled

In thy hands I now deliver

A single word sufficeth well

How long the veil of eve and dawn

One by one we count our breath

No lament, no sigh I uttered

Tremulous as the moon-light

Lord, who didst bring the stars to birth

Part II

In the flask that here I hold

Rise up! The hour is here

On the roadway of desire

Thou canst pass, like morning’s breeze

If it be thy will to gain

Time is the winged messenger

Of the Friend’s ingenuous wit

Mind, that is ever questing

I am the slave of each living heart

The tulip of this meadowland

Faith depends on arguments

Drunk with self hood like a wave

Out of Hejaz and the lonely plain

Of the Sultan I would take

Like the dervish drunken be

Greed is acting still his play

Although the Angel dwells beyond

Where is the Arab, to revive

Rise like the morning air

Little flower fast asleep

Our world is dusty clay

Sleeper, rise thou up, and fast!

My mind awhile was gone

A melody swept me through and through

No Jamshid’s memory, the wine

I am a blossom of the plain

I uttered a new word

Never lover true is he

In the heart of the birds, that range

We are gone astray from God

Of the hirelings’s blood outpoured

Although the soul, I know

Whether the world be foul or fair

What is this life? A pearl

Beyond heaven’s shuttered dome

A sinner proud am I; no need

The world had lost its sight

No friend in the world entire thou wilt find

The fine science thou dost learn

Vision can be won

Too oft was thy light

Love want searching thro’ the earth

Come! The Asiatic man

I boast a love that is not grieved

The Saqi, pouring his pure wine

Brighter shall shine men’s clay

I have never discovered well

Far, far from every other go

The world, but not selfhood, thou canst see

In the accidents of night

What man art thou, and where thy home?

In the abode of passion, where

The young beloved, the ancient wine

Qalanders, who to their sway

A double-handled sword am I

Each atom’s body like a spark

Ever to be about with men

Like a tulip’s flame I burn

Soft my breath doth pass

Leave him who never won to sight

It chanced within the desert nigh

Fool! Is there then such hope in thee

Eschew the West, and do not be

A secret ‘tis, ‘tis evident

This brand of grief, His love apart

When the tulip’s heart I viewed

This is a world, that like to it

Spring is come; bright glances dart

The Artist, Whose vast mind

This ancient universe

In the mead a tulip blows

Whence hath this commotion swirled

Tulip in the mountains blowing

I am a slave set free

Silent rosebud in her heart

To my self alone I bow

Gulshan-i Raz-i Jadid
Bandagi Nama


Introduction by the Translator




Question 1 and Answer

Question 2 and Answer

Question 3 and Answer

Question 4 and Answer

Question 5 and Answer

Question 6 and Answer

Question 7 and Answer

Question 8 and Answer

Question 9 and Answer




On the Fine Arts of the Slaves

Religion of the Slaves

On the Architecture of Free Men


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