When the soul understands and wakes to find
Thou hast within the heart of man Thy throne,
    It sees how arrogant and blind
The self that but its mortal self hath known.

Thou and I also were the seer and seen,
When none beside existed.  Thou and I
    Have Lover and Beloved been
Before this era of mortality.

How strange the turns in Love’s unending game,
For neither Lover nor Beloved lit
    The ever-burning flame: 
Whence was the spirit that enkindled it?

The road that leads where pious pilgrims bow
In Kaaba or in Temple, Thou hast laid;
    And first of all wert Thou
To tread the road that thou Thyself hadst made.

Zahir.

XLVII.

Thy beauty flashes like a sword
    Serene and keen and merciless;
But great as is thy cruelty,
    Even greater is thy loveliness.

It is the gift of God to thee
    This beauty rare and exquisite;
Why dost thou hide it thus from me,
    I shall not steal nor sully it.

And as thy beauty shines, in Heaven
    There climbs upon its path of fire
The star that lights my rival’s way,
    And with it mounts his heart’s desire.

Even in thy house is jealousy,
    Thy youth demands the lover’s praise
Over thy beauty, which itself
    Is jealous of thy gracious ways.

I died with joy when winningly
    I heard the Well-Beloved call—­
Zahir, where is my beauty gone,
    Thou must have robbed me after all.

Zahir.

XLVIII.

O Tyrannous One, when from my heart was drawn
    The fatal arrow, like a scarlet flood
My life gushed forth; but yet the one word Hope
    Was written in my blood.

Why should the Cosmos turn its wheel of worlds
    If not to search for thee eternally? 
Why should the tireless Sun arise each morn
    If not to look for thee?

Alas my fate! before you came to me
    Already had I felt the touch of Death,
Nor was I spared before thy worshipped feet
    To offer up my breath.

For long, throughout the world, I sought for thee,
    Through weary years and ages of unrest;
At last I found thee hidden in my arms
    Within my breast!

ZAUQ.

FRAGMENTS.

Each morn I see the Sun in majesty
    Come back to shine thy rival as before,
But O what ages has it taken thee
    To come to me—­if thou wilt come—­once more!

Arzu.

Through Love did I the joy of life attain,
    And walking in the way that He hath led
I found the remedy to heal all pain;
    Why therefore is my pain unremedied?

Ghalib.

O burnish well the mirror of thy heart
    And make it fair,
If thou desire the image of thy Love
    To shine reflected there.