GAZEL
’Tis love’s wild sea, my sighs’ fierce wind doth lash those waves my tears uprear;
My head, the barque of sad despite; mine eyebrows twain, the anchors here.
Mine unkempt hair, the den of yonder tiger dread, the fair one’s love;
My head, dismay and sorrow’s realm’s deserted mountain region drear.
At whatsoever feast I drain the cup thy rubies’ mem’ry to,
Amidst all those who grace that feast, except the dregs, I’ve no friend near.
Thou know’st, O Light of my poor eyes, with tūtyā mixed are gems full bright,
What then if weep on thy path’s dust mine eyes that scatter pearls most clear!
The Sphere, old hag, with witchcraft’s spell hath parted me from my fond love,
O Bāqī, see, by God, how vile a trick yon jade hath played me here!
Bāqī.