O potter! be attentive, if thou possessest sound reason!
How long wilt thou abase man in moulding his clay? It
is the finger of Feridoun, the hand of Kai-Khosrou which
you thus put upon your wheel.
O rose! thou art the face of some young ravishing
fair! O wine! thou art the ruby whose brightness joys
my soul! O fateful fortune! each instant thou appearest
more strange to me, and nevertheless I seem to know
thee.
From the cookery of this world, thou only absorbest
the smoke. How long, plunged in the search for being
and annihilation, wilt thou be the prey of sorrow? This
world contains only loss for those who attach themselves
to it. Now disregard this loss, and all for thee will
benefit become.
As for us, let us not try to torment men in their
sleep; let us refrain from making them utter at midnight
the lamentable cry O my God! O my God! [as others
do]. Rest not upon riches or beauty, for the one will
take wings in the night, and the other, in the night also,
will be ravished.
If from the commencement Thou hadst wished to make
me known to myself, why later, hast Thou separated me
from this myself? If from the first day Thy intention
was to abandon me, why hast Thou thrown me, all
amazed, into the midst of the world?