He said, “Let me offer soul’s wine to you,
so you won’t be oppressed with anxiety and sorrow.
Never mind sorrow.
Every merry one will pledge joy to you.
“I will make you an angel with two hundred wings and arms,
such an angel that you won’t have a trace of human cloudiness, human attributes.
“Let me show you how the soul appears when it is freed from the body,
when the dust of life has been cleansed from its shirt.
“Let me save you from counting the days and nights of early dawn
when the soul drinks that special wine.
“Destiny and fate keep throwing the arrows of events at you.
Then, it helps bring your affairs to good end.”
The wind is blowing from the field of sugar cane.
After tasting it, even sugar denies its own sweetness.
That’s how sweet it is.
He offered me a glass in the early morning, a glass that was like the sun.
I drank that wine.
My being started dancing, particle by particle.
I became dead drunk.
He said, “I’ll give you another glass, so nothing can remain between us.”
Offer. Offer, O charming Cupbearer of the world.
There is no doubt that the noble do nobility,
that the moon does what the moon is supposed to do.
I swear by the Sun of the greatness of omnipotent God:
this whirling, ever-traveling sky has never found anyone like You.
O Charmer who is perfect in beauty, You tell the rest of it.
The wine You offered me this morning has taken me away from my self completely.
Divan-i Kebir, Meter 7b, Gazel 243, Verses 3178-3188, Pages 247-248.