Muntakhab al-tawarikh 281: LXVII. Shakībī of Iṣfahān.

281

He came recently to India, and is in the service of the Khānkhānān, son of Bairam Khān. He has good taste. The following verses are by him:—
“My nightly lamentations are still of some effect, My broken bow has still an arrow which will reach its mark. My heart is provoked by her absence; show me some mercy, O fate! For my hand is hampered in combat by my having a mountain’s weight tied to my waist. Scatter roses on the skirts of my friends, for he who is wounded to the heart by her absence Has, on the point of each eyelash, a hundred drops from his liver.”
“O God! Send me from heaven a market for my wares, I am selling my heart for a sight of my love; send me a buyer.”
“My wares are anguish, not joy; why dost thou ask the price? Well I know that thou wilt not buy, and I will not sell.”
My great Preserver is harsh to me in a thousand ways, But how shall He bring the poor Shu'uri into thy presence?”
“Love has entered, and seized the vein of my soul, The bewilderment of seeing thee has made my tongue mute.”
“Her wavy lock has fallen on her moon-like cheek, A horse-shoe has been put into the fire for thee.”
“Thou didst promise to sow the seed of faithfulness. What is faithfulness? To keep one’s promises.”
“The double chin of that beauty with eyebrows like the new moon Is the reflection of the new moon in clear water.”
“Hay, for when the sun rose in the heavens, The moon appeared beneath his rays.”