Peace, one and all…
Take Love’s chalice and on you go
just choose this as your love and go
Be limpid wine, pure as spirit
unblurred by vinestalk scum, and flow
One glance at him’s worth scores of lives
strike a bargain, sell your soul and go
Such a body: argent, fluid, fine!
pay the silver, close your purse, and go
Let the whole world weep for you! So what?
look up at his smiling globe and go.
If they call you hypocrite, poseur
Say, ‘So I am, and ten times worse,’ and go
Thumb your nose at people, rub it in
suck the sugar from his lips and go –
‘The moon is mine, the rest is yours
I need neither hearth nor home,’ you go
Who is that moon?
Lord of Tabriz, it’s Shams, the Sun!
Step into his regal shade
Mevlana, Ghazal 2179, trans. F D Lewis