Eschew the West, and do not be
Bewitched by Europe’s wizardry;
Not worth a barley, in my view,
Is all her ancient and her new.

Mighty Darius, Iskandar,
Khusrau and Kaikobad–all are
A blade of grass upon the way
Swept by a passing wind, to-day.

Life is the Self to beautify,
To guard the Self right jealously;
Upon a caravan thou art–
Fare on with all, but go apart!

Radiant thou camest from the sky,
Far brighter than the sun on high;
So live, that every mote may be
Illumined by thy brilliancy.

Thou hast not spared thy precious ring
Idly to Ahriman to fling–
To pledge the which it were not well
Even to trusty Gabriel.

The tavern is ashamed, because
So narrow is become our glass;
A beaker take, and prudently
Drink wine–and then be off with thee!