|
Save only that faith and reason I've lost, belovéd one
|
|
|
|
Song from the Diwan
|
|
|
|
Queen of mine, thou go'st so goodly That for thee outright I die
|
|
|
|
Come back and soul's ally Unto my bosom strait be
|
|
|
|
In whatso love-questing, wherein, Excepting fireflaught, there is not
|
|
|
|
This my love for thee, my fair one, On what wise shall I assain?
|
|
|
|
By the world-illumining splendour Of Shah Shejáa his reign
|
|
|
|
By the glory and might and power Of Shah Shejáa I swear
|
|
|
|
The Good news is come that Spring's At hand, with its verdure fine
|
|
|
|
O justice-doer, thy bosom-friend And cup-companion the Sphere still be!
|
|
|