Beloved! I've made for you many a lovely thing -
Wine cups fashioned out of jessamine petals,
Enchanting tales woven from your short breath or two
(which is all your speech to hint a yes or no) ,
Pearls strapped from rain drops coming down
When my ardour soared up the sky as a cloud,
Fields of flowers smiling where it was desolate land -
Made desolate, in fact, by these very hands of mine!
I came to taste life's nectar but, enslaved by illusion,
Wove my own thoughts as chains to fetter me.
I learnt about the saqi's new wine of motherland,
For which I fashioned new bowls with an ardent passion!
Those times are gone when you could beg, beseech and get!
I donned the robe of pride, with no hem for supplication.
Justice till now was to be had as freely as the air.
I set up shops in every street to have it freely sold!
Many a covetous man was enticed with liberal sweets,
And many a simple soul with visions of the hereafter!
I adore the company of friends - all my brothers!
That's why, despite my faith, I've built a temple at home.
Mahjoor, I've set up shops for your wine in every place,
For it restores to sobriety those who've got drunk!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem