Poem XLVI

1Look on the face of Love, that you may be properly a man.Do not sit with the frigid; for you will be chilled by their breath.

2Seek from the face of Love something other than beauty;It is time that you should consort with a sympathetic companion.

3Since you are properly a clod, you will not rise into the air;You will rise into the air, if you break and become dust.

4If you break not, He who moulded you will break you;When death breaks you, how should you become a separate substance?

5When the leaf grows yellow, the fresh root makes it green;You are complaining of Love thro’ which you become pale.

6And, O friend, if you reach perfection in our assembly,Your seat will be the throne, you will gain your desire in all things.

7But if you stay many years more in this earth,You will pass from place to place, you will be as the dice in backgammon.

8If Shamsi Tabrīz draws you to his side,When you escape from captivity you will return to that orb.