Poem VII

1That moon, which the sky ne’er saw even in dreams, has returnedAnd brought a fire no water can quench.

2See the body’s house, and see my soul,This made drunken and that desolate by the cup of his love.

3When the host of the tavern became my heart-mate,My blood turned to wine and my heart to kabāb.

4When the eye is filled with thought of him, a voice arrives:‘Well done, O flagon, and bravo, wine!’

5Love’s fingers tear up, root and stem,Every house where sunbeams fall from love.

6When my heart saw love’s sea, of a suddenIt left me and leaped in, crying, ‘Find me.’

7The face of Shamsi Dīn, Tabrīz’s glory, is the sunIn whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.