In memory of the Beloved
We drank a wine
With which we had been drunk
Before the creation of the vine.
The full moon was its cup.
While the wine was a sun passed round
By a crescent, which when mixed,
How many stars appear!
Mawlana If not for its fragrance, I would never have been guided to its tavern. If not for its radiance, Imagination could never picture it, Time preserved nothing of it, but a fading breath, As if its being hidden in the breasts of the wise were concealed. If you are drunk with it for but one hour, You will see time an obedient slave at your command. For there is no life in this world for one who lives sober; And one who dies not drunk from it, Resolution has passed him by.
Mawlana If not for its fragrance, I would never have been guided to its tavern. If not for its radiance, Imagination could never picture it, Time preserved nothing of it, but a fading breath, As if its being hidden in the breasts of the wise were concealed. If you are drunk with it for but one hour, You will see time an obedient slave at your command. For there is no life in this world for one who lives sober; And one who dies not drunk from it, Resolution has passed him by.
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