‘Twas night: my heart would fain lament,
The silence was filled with my cries to God. 110
I was complaining of the sorrows of the world
And bewailing the emptiness of my cup.
At last mine eye could endure no more,
Broken with fatigue it went to sleep.
There appeared the Master, formed in the mould of Truth, 115
Who wrote the Koran of Persia.[27]
He said, “O frenzied lover,
Take a draught of love’s pure wine.