In sleep thou bearest no burden; borne thou art, instead.
Fatigue is thence recruited;--strength regains its head.
Know then, thy sleep’s a foretaste of what is to come,
From the rapt state of saints arriving at their home.
The saints were well prefigured by the “Sleepers Seven.”[345]
“Their sleep,” “their stretchings,” “their awaking,”
lead to heaven.
Without the least exertion on their parts by acts,
The “right and left-hand registers” draw them by facts.
The “right-hand register” ’s the record of good deeds;[346]
The “left-hand register” ’s the list of fleshly greeds.[347] 40
But both of these abolished are in case of saints.
To them such things are but as echo dies and faints.
Though good and evil may their echoes round thee peal,
The echoing mountain hears them not in the ordeal.
Now Joseph once again inquired: “What offering bringest?”
His friend, ashamed of urgent pressing, sighed. Thou singest?
Said he: “Full many offerings have I sought and seen;
But none was worthy of thee; or I much misween.
How could I bring a diamond to its native mine;
Or add a drop of water to a sea of brine? 45
Shall I to Kāshān cummin bring, whence it is drawn,[348]
By offering up my life and soul to beauty’s fawn?
I know no rarity that’s not surpassed by thee;
Thy loveliness the rarity men nowhere see.
The fittest present, then, I’ve found, a mirror is.
And this I’ve brought; unsullied, bright, refulgent ’tis.[349]
Therein thou’lt contemplate thy beauteous, matchless face,
As beaming as the sun that decorates sky’s space.
A mirror have I brought, thou charming, witching one;
In it admire thyself; and think of me, when gone.” 50
The mirror now he drew from underneath his skirt.
A mirror is, to beauty, with attractions girt.
In non-existence’ mirror if existence gleams,
Present this mirror to it, thou, as best beseems.
In non-existence mirrored, being we may see;
As wealthy men their wealth may show by beggars’ glee.
The hungry man’s the mirror best shows what is bread.
And tinder mirrors flint and steel’s gleam, quickly spread.
Wherever want, defect, is seen, beauty’s most prized.
The mirror of perfection’s then best realised. 55
If clothes grew, ready cut and sewn, to meet our needs,
Where’d be the use of tailor’s art, to fashion weeds?
The unhewn trunk is needed, for the carver’s skill,
And carpenter, to cut out thence his frames, his thill.
The surgeon hastens to the couch where suffering lies;
Where limbs are broken, there his bandages he ties.
Were there no patient, malady, no fever, ache,
Could art sublime, the medical, its marvels make?
If humble brass and copper were not to be found,
Th’ alchemist’s stone could not to gold transmute them round. 60