Ta’en my sense and soul have those thy Leylī locks, thy glance’s spell, Me, their Mejnūn, ’midst of love’s wild dreary desert they impel. Since mine eyes have seen the beauty of the Joseph of thy grace, Sense and heart have fall’n and lingered in thy chin’s sweet dimple-well. Heart and soul of mine are broken through my passion for thy lips; From the hand of patience struck they honor’s glass, to earth it fell. The mirage, thy lips, O sweetheart, that doth like to water show; For, through longing, making thirsty, vainly they my life dispel. Since Selīmī hath the pearls, thy teeth, been praising, sense and heart Have his head and soul abandoned, plunging ’neath love’s ocean-swell. _Selīmī._ GAZEL Thy veil raise, shake from cheeks those locks of thine then; Unclouded beauty’s sun and moon bid shine then. But one glance from those soft and drooping eyes throw, The heart through joy to drunkenness consign then. Were I thy lip to suck, ’twould heal the sick heart; Be kind, an answer give, Physician mine, then. Beware lest evil glance thy beauty’s rose smite, From ill-eyed rival careful it confine then. O heart, this is Life’s Water ’midst of darkness, In night’s gloom hidden, drink the ruby wine then. My love’s down grows upon her rosy-hued cheek, A book write on the woes it doth enshrine then. Thy wine-hued lip, O love, grant to Selīmī-- And by thy parting’s shaft my tears make wine then. _Selīmī._ GAZEL The rival entry free hath to the loved one’s ward, but none have I; Regard unto the very dogs they there accord, but none have I. The heart doth seize the Magian’s hand; the cup-bearer, his glass; but I-- For gentle love they grant to these their due reward, but none have I. To gain regard I would complain loud as the dogs within thy ward, For these have power their plight to show, their griefs record, but none have I. From all eternity have I to Mejnūn taught the pang of love, How then do all the folk to him renown award, but none have I? To God be praise that brightly shines the mirror of my heart, Shemsī, For more or less earth’s glass with dust is soiled or marred, but none have I. _Shemsī Pacha._ FROM THE “KING AND BEGGAR” Parrot, sweet of voice, thy song now raise! All thy words purify in Love’s fierce blaze! Every point of Love as whole book shows; Every mote of Love as bright sun glows. Drowned in one drop thereof Time, Space, in sooth; Lost in one grain thereof Both Worlds, in truth. Man becomes man through Love, pure, bright, Teacher respected, guide of the right. Through its beams everything man as chief owns, Rays of sun into rubies turn black stones. * * * * *