The spot at which did King Khusrev Pervīz light
Was e’en the ruined dwelling of that moon bright.
Whilst wand’ring on, he comes upon that parterre,
As on he strolls, it opes before his eyes fair.
Among the trees a night-hued courser stands bound
(On Heaven’s charger’s breast were envy’s scars found).
As softly moved he, sudden on his sight gleamed
A moon that in the water shining bright beamed.
O what a moon! a sun o’er earth that light rains—
Triumphant, happy, blest he who her shade gains.
She’d made the pool a casket for her frame fair,
And all about that casket spread her dark hair.
Her hand did yonder curling serpents back throw—
The dawn ’tis, and thereof we never tired grow.
He saw the water round about her ear play;
In rings upon her shoulders her dark locks lay.
When yon heart-winning moon before the King beamed,
The King became the sun—in him Love’s fire gleamed.
The tears e’en like to water from his eyes rolled;—
Was’t strange, when did a Watery Sign the Moon hold?
No power was left him, neither sport nor pleasure;
He bit his finger, wildered beyond measure.
Unconscious of his gaze, the jasmine-breasted—
The hyacinths o’er the narcissi rested.
When shone her day-face, from that musky cloud bare,
Her eyes oped Shīrīn and beheld the King there.
Within that fountain, through dismay and shamed fright,
She trembled as on water doth the moonlight.
Than this no other refuge could yon moon find
That she should round about her her own locks bind.
The moon yet beameth through the hair, the dark night,
With tresses how could be concealed the sun bright?
To hide her from him, round her she her hair flung,
And thus as veil her night before her day hung.
Sheykhī
/p.
FROM KHUSREV AND SHĪRĪN
/p
When Ferhād bound to fair Shīrīn his heart’s core,
From out his breast Love many a bitter wail tore.
On tablet of his life graved, shown was Shīrīn;
Of all else emptied, filled alone with Shīrīn.
As loathed he the companionship of mankind,
In wild beasts ’midst the hills did he his friends find.
His guide was Pain; his boon companion, Grief’s throe;
His comrade, Sorrow; and his closest friend, Woe.
Thus wand’ring on, he knew not day from dark night;
For many days he onward strayed in sad plight.
Although before his face a wall of stone rise,
Until he strikes against it, blind his two eyes.
Through yearning for his love he from the world fled;
From out his soul into his body Death sped.
Because he knew that when the earthly frame goes,
Eternal, Everlasting Being love shows,
He fervent longed to be from fleshly bonds free,
That then his life in very truth might Life see.
In sooth, till dies the body, Life is ne’er found,
Nor with the love of life the Loved One e’er found.
Sheykhī.
YAZIJI-OGLU
The Creation of Paradise
Hither come, O seeker after Truth! if joy thou wouldest share,
Enter on the Mystic Pathway, follow it, then joy thou’lt share.
Hearken now what God (exalted high his name!) from naught hath formed.
Eden’s bower he hath created; Light, its lamp, he did prepare;
Loftiest its sites, and best and fairest are its blest abodes;
Midst of each a hall of pearls—not ivory nor teak-wood rare.
Each pavilion he from seventy ruddy rubies raised aloft—
Dwellings these in which the dwellers sit secure from fear or care.
Round within each courtyard seventy splendid houses he hath ranged,
Formed of emeralds green—houses these no fault of form that bear.
There, within each house, are seventy pearl and gem-incrusted thrones;
He upon each throne hath stretched out seventy couches broidered fair;
Sits on every couch a maiden of the bourne of loveliness:
Moons their foreheads, days their faces, each a jewelled crown doth wear;
Wine their rubies, soft their eyes, their eyebrows troublous, causing woe:
All-enchanting, Paradise pays tribute to their witching air.
Sudden did they see the faces of those damsels dark of eye,
Blinded sun and moon were, and Life’s Stream grew bitter then and there.
Thou wouldst deem that each was formed of rubies, corals, and of pearls;
Question there is none, for God thus in the Qur’ān doth declare.
Tables seventy, fraught with bounties, he in every house hath placed,
And on every tray hath spread out seventy sorts of varied fare.
. . . . . . . . . .
All these glories, all these honors, all these blessings of delight,
All these wondrous mercies surely for his sake he did prepare:
Through his love unto Muhammed, he the universe hath framed;
Happy, for his sake, the naked and the hungry enter there.
O Thou Perfectness of Potence! O Thou God of Awful Might!
O Thou Majesty of Glory! O Thou King of Perfect Right!
Since he Eden’s heaven created, all is there complete and whole,
So that naught is lacking; nothing he created needs repair.
Yonder, for his righteous servants, things so fair hath he devised,
That no eye hath e’er beheld them; ope thy soul’s eye, on them stare.
Never have his servants heard them, neither can their hearts conceive;
Reach unto their comprehension shall this understanding ne’er.
There that God a station lofty, of the loftiest, hath reared,
That unclouded station he the name Vesīla caused to bear,
That to his Belovèd yonder station a dear home may be,
Thence ordained is Heaven’s order free from every grief and care.
In its courtyard’s riven centre, planted he the Tūba-Tree;
That a tree which hangeth downward, high aloft its roots are there:
Thus its radiance all the Heavens lighteth up from end to end,
Flooding every tent and palace, every lane and every square.
Such a tree the Tūba, that the Gracious One hath in its sap
Hidden whatsoe’er there be of gifts and presents good and fair;
Forth therefrom crowns, thrones, and jewels, yea, and steeds and coursers come,
Golden leaves and clearest crystals, wines most pure beyond compare.
For his sake there into being hath he called the Tūba-Tree,
That from Ebū-Qāsim’s hand might everyone receive his share.
. . . . . . . . . .
Yaziji-Oglu.