It chanced into a potter's shop I strayed,
He turned his wheel and deftly plied his trade,
And out of monarchs' heads, and beggars' feet,
Fair heads and handles for his pitchers made!
466. C. N. L. A. I. J. Paya, «the treadle.»
If you have sense, true senselessness attain,
And the Etern Cupbearer's goblet drain,
If not, true senselessness is not for you,
Not every fool true senselessness can gain!
467. L. N. Meaning, the «truly Mystical darkness of ignorance.» See Gulshan i Raz, p. 13.
O Love! before you pass death's portal through,
And potters make their jugs of me and you,
Pour from this jug some wine, of headache void,
And fill your cup, and fill my goblet too!
468. C. L. N. A. I. J. Headache, in allusion to the wine of Paradise, Koran, lvi. 17.