O rainy season, like sad lovers crying
because of the absence of our beloved ones,
pour your rain on our friends.
O eyes of the clouds,
you pour your tears out by the cupful,
all because you see our Beauties,
the Ones with faces like the Moon,
and you are jealous.
Look at the crying of this cloud.
Look at the smile of this garden.
Now our patients get well
and are saved from their father’s cries and begging.
This cloud which rains continuously
resembles God’s blessing
to thirsty, chapped-lipped friends.
God is the One who offers this huge jar to rinds.*
The sky is spreading pearls
over the barren plains of the Earth,
those plains which had lost their harvest
due to our deceitful Beauty’s failure
to provide what was needed to make them grow.
This cloud is like Jacob.
The rose in the garden is Joseph.
Josephs are smiling because of our crying clouds.
One drop becomes pearl, the other, narcissus.
The hands of the ones
who make a living on the plains
by planting and harvesting crops
are filled with goods and blessings.
The garden and meadow which offer wines
were decorated with flowers yesterday,
because our men who are fond of wine
drank it on an empty stomach.
Close your mouth like an oyster.
Don’t bring your drunkenness
in front of the naive ones,
so that our knowledgeable friends
will come back from the Land of Absence.
*rinds A type of Sufi.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, ghazal 8, verses 132-140, pages 24-25.