Muntakhab al-tawarikh 72: Qasidah

72

Once more the time has come when in accordance with the summons of the sky The rose spreads its crimson blanket on the couch of the garden; The clouds of Naisan, with the keen blood-hued dagger of the lightning Erases the word “ice” from the pages of the earth’s surface. The close-eyed darlings the buds, like an army of Ozbaks, Make a night-attack at early dawn upon the army of Dai; Behold the forms of bud and of rose with the sky for a branch! The conical shadow of the earth is the bud, the sun in heaven is the rose.
The garden became the table of 'Isa, and the stray leaves on it Looked like salt sprinkled here and there upon that table.
In order that the people may not receive drossy gold from the hand of the jasmine, The tulip caught up its; hidden under his arm the touchstone.
Every perfect thing which is not secure from the defects of decay, Seems in the sight of the wise and noble but a small thing.
The beloved of the garden is of perfect beauty but it had been well If this beauty and comeliness had not been separated from it.
Alas! for that moment when at the instigation of destiny the army of Dai Became emboldened to lay waste the garden of roses.
The time is near at hand when the staff-bearer of the days of Autumn Will knock with his staff at the gate of the rose-garden.
The crow will then hold in derision the impassioned nightingale, And the withered petals will lie blackened beneath the hundred petalled rose (the sun).
The wind has cast the diadem from the head of the garden-glory, While the Siparak sets itself up in antagonism to the cheek of the rose.
With a view to the construction of that courtyard of which Dai has laid the foundation in the garden, Everywhere there lie scattered about bricks of ice and mortar of snow,
[For aged people who have experienced the tyranny of Autumn The optician Dai makes spectacles of the crystal ice.
Soon will it happen that from fear of the staff of the watchman of Dai The people of the sweet herbs will take to flight one after another]
It is better for the wise man that he determine to make the tour of such a garden Where the autumn cannot be persuaded to go even by force.
That garden is the rose garden of the praise of a king of so high dignity That the very angels descend from heaven to frequent his Court:
Murtaza the king, both of form and reality, inasmuch as he is the source of the union of shadow and substance.
That one who, from the impetuosity of his royal falcon's talons, Breaks the wing of the heavenly Eagle as though it were a duck.
Such a king is he that, in the train of the attendants at his door,
Birjis bears the name Sa‘d, and ‘Utarid that of Zirak.
The table-steward of the sky, for the use of his lordly table,
Has brought the Pleiades in his hand as salt-cellar and salt.
The moon has become the censer of his assembly, and the rays of the moon,
Are the smoke of the aloes-wood which issues from that censer.
From behind the mirror of the heavens, in accordance with the rules of approval,
Whatever he said, Fate repeated the same like a parrot.
[Who else is there whom they can bring into his train,
We recognise his other competitors, each one of them.
He bears no relation to tyranny-loving strangers.
The connoisseur perceives the difference between turquoise and glass beads ;
Violent justice and the decree of courts are mistaken, For this reason that this question was decided in the case of Faddak. The Widow of time, since she was not meet for marriage, He divorced her openly and irrevocably, then he left her.
The following opening couplet of his is also well known:—