How long do you think you can escape death
by watching the purple color of the Judas tree, by listening to the sound of the organ?
Look and see: They’re pulling and dragging you away,
Although really, we are returning to Him.
How long will you lock your houses with greed?
How long will you keep indulging in food?
How long will you keep chasing the bait?
The trap of death has already exhausted you.
There is no need for a silver saddle on a dead horse.
When you ride the wooden horse and use the slab as a saddle,
That’s when you’ll understand all the deceits and fables of life.
Take off your expensive dresses and skirts;
surrender yourself to the shroud.
Move away from the greenness, the garden;
try to stay on the ground with the blood.
You used to watch beautiful ones stealthily, used to be their confidant.
You used to come over, clapping your hands.
Where are those beautiful ones now? What happened to them?
You condescended to nice people and made fun of them.
But now, your jaw has been tied.
Your son, your wife have removed you from the house.
Where are your night-drinking joys and parties, those sugar-tasting lips?
Where is the breath you used to blow spells up to the moon with your mind, your talent?
Where is the time when you refused to give bread to the needy?
Where are your fights that were all about crumbs of bread?
O One who was dumped in the hole upside down,
where is your necklace? Where are your headbands?
Where is your incongruous, nonsensical business?
Where is your annoyance, your discord?
Where is your ambition in work, in deceit?
Where are your tracks and traces, O imposter?
O one who says, “This garden is my garden, This inn is my inn.
This one is mine, that one is mine!”
The one who says “mine” weighs seventy tons.
Now, even a single piece of straw Is more valuable than you.
Where is your stately pride, your sarcastic smile, your dislike of everyone?
Where are those attacks, those fights
when your face got all red because of your crazy anger?
Not even one night did you repent until morning,
You didn’t remember God, didn’t even mention His name.
Today, you regret the past,
You’re sorry about your crazy beliefs and loose faith.
You repent for loving the past.
You repent for being a stranger to God,
Yet, you still stay far from the prophets.
How could this happen? How?
My friend, be like a mirror,
Tell stories without tongue or lips.
If action gives sadness, Drunkenness disappears.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, ghazal 101, verses 1278-1292, pages 244-246.