O beautiful wine-bearer, bring forth the cup and put it to my lips
Path of love seemed easy at first, what came was many hardships.
With its perfume, the morning breeze unlocks those beautiful locks
The curl of those dark ringlets, many hearts to shreds strips.
...
Where is sensible action, & my insanity whence?
See the difference, it is from where to whence.
From the church & hypocritical vestments, I take offence
Where is the abode of the Magi, & sweet wine whence?
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That beautiful Shirazi Turk, took control and my heart stole,
I'll give Samarkand & Bukhara, for her Hindu beauty mole.
O wine-bearer bring me wine, such wine not found in Heavens
By running brooks, in flowery fields, spend your days and stroll.
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Keep to your own affairs, why do you fault me?
My heart has fallen in love, what has befallen thee?
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Falsely pious, of our state are unaware
No offence if their words our hearts tear.
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My eyes drown in tears, yet thirst for but one chance
I'll give away my whole life, for Beloved, but one glance.
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The bright moon reflects your radiant face
Your snowcapped cheekbones supply water of grace
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Whoever had found his way to the tavern's block
Would have to be insane if on another door knock
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The heavenly breeze comes to this estate,
I sit with the wine and a lovely mate.
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The corner of the tavern is my altar, where I pray
At dawn, the mantra of the Old Magi, I say.
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Well done O messenger, bring a message from my friend
Willingly I'll give my own life for the sake of my friend.
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When you hear the lovers' words, think them not a mistake
You don't recognize these words, the error must be your take.
...