مهر مومش حاکی انگشتری است ** باز آن نقش نگین حاکی کیست1325
The seal impressed on his wax is telling of the seal-ring; of whom, again, does the device tell, (which is) graven on the stone of the ring?
حاکی اندیشهی آن زرگر است ** سلسلهی هر حلقه اندر دیگر است
It tells of the thought of the Goldsmith—(all this) is a chain, every link (inserted) in another.
این صدا در کوه دلها بانگ کی ست ** گه پرست از بانگ این که گه تهی است
Whose voice is this echo in the mountains of (our) hearts? Sometimes this mountain is full of the voice, sometimes it is empty.
هر کجا هست او حکیم است اوستاد ** بانگ او زین کوه دل خالی مباد
Wheresoever he is, he is the Sage, the Master—may his voice not forsake this mountain!
هست که کاوا مثنا میکند ** هست که کآواز صد تا میکند
There is a mountain that (only) doubles the voice; there is a mountain that makes it hundredfold.
میزهاند کوه از آن آواز و قال ** صد هزاران چشمهی آب زلال1330
At that voice and speech the mountain lets gush forth hundreds of thousands of springs of clear water.
چون ز کوه آن لطف بیرون میشود ** آبها در چشمهها خون میشود
Inasmuch as that grace emanates (even) from the mountain, the waters in the springs become blood.
ز آن شهنشاه همایون نعل بود ** که سراسر طور سینا لعل بود
’Twas on account of that monarch of auspicious gait that Mount Sinai was (turned to) rubies from end to end.
جان پذیرفت و خرد اجزای کوه ** ما کم از سنگیم آخر ای گروه
(All) the parts of the mountain received life and intelligence— after all, are we inferior to stone, O people?
نه ز جان یک چشمه جوشان میشود ** نه بدن از سبز پوشان میشود
Neither is there gushing from the soul a single spring, nor is the body becoming one of those clad in green;
نه صدای بانگ مشتاقی در او ** نه صفای جرعهی ساقی در او1335
Neither is there in it the echo of the cry of longing, nor the purity (born) of the draught of (wine bestowed by) the Cup-bearer.
کو حمیت تا ز تیشه و ز کلند ** این چنین که را بکلی بر کنند
Where is (so great) zeal, that they should entirely dig up such a mountain as this with axe and with pick?—
بو که بر اجزای او تابد مهی ** بو که در وی تاب مه یابد رهی
(In the hope that) maybe a Moon will shine upon its particles, (that) maybe the radiance of the Moon will find a way into it.
چون قیامت کوهها را بر کند ** پس قیامت این کرم کی میکند
Inasmuch as the (temporal) Resurrection shall dig up the mountains, how shall it cast the shadow (of protection) over us?
این قیامت ز آن قیامت کی کم است ** آن قیامت زخم و این چون مرهم است
How is this (spiritual) Resurrection inferior to that (temporal) Resurrection? That (temporal) Resurrection is the wound, and this (spiritual) Resurrection is as the plaster.
هر که دید این مرهم از زخم ایمن است ** هر بدی کاین حسن دید او محسن است1340
Every one that has seen (experienced) this plaster is safe from the wound: every evil one that has seen this good is a well-doer.
ای خنک زشتی که خویش شد حریف ** و ای گل رویی که جفتش شد خریف
Oh, happy is the ugly one to whom the beauteous one has become a companion; alas for one of rosy countenance with whom autumn has consorted!
نان مرده چون حریف جان شود ** زنده گردد نان و عین آن شود
When lifeless bread is companioned with life, the bread becomes living and is turned into the substance of that (life).
هیزم تیره حریف نار شد ** تیرگی رفت و همه انوار شد
Dark faggots become the companions of fire: the darkness departed, and all was turned into light.
در نمکلان چون خر مرده فتاد ** آن خری و مردگی یک سو نهاد
When the dead ass fell into the salt-mine, it put aside asininity and mortality.
صبغة الله هست خم رنگ هو ** پیسها یک رنگ گردد اندر او1345
The baptism of Allah is the dyeing-vat of Hú (the Absolute God): therein (all) piebald things become of one colour.
چون در آن خم افتد و گوییش قم ** از طرب گوید منم خم لا تلم
When he (the mystic) falls into the vat, and you say to him, “Arise,” he says in rapture, “I am the vat: do not blame (me).”
آن منم خم خود انا الحق گفتن است ** رنگ آتش دارد الا آهن است
That “I am the vat” is the (same as) saying “I am God”: he has the colour of the fire, albeit he is iron.
رنگ آهن محو رنگ آتش است ** ز آتشی میلافد و خامشوش است
The colour of the iron is naughted in the colour of the fire: it (the iron) boasts of (its) fieriness, though (actually) it is like one who keeps silence.
چون به سرخی گشت همچون زر کان ** پس انا النار است لافش بیزبان
When it has become like gold of the mine in redness, then without tongue its boast is “I am the fire.”