Zaburi Ajam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

5

Time is the winged messenger

Of the Heart’s Desire;

Wondrous herald! Tidings fair

Is his life entire.

Think not, thou shalt never win

The Beloved to view:

The desire thy breast within

Still is raw, and new!

Well I know that thou dost soar

Hawklike high in air;

Yet beware the Fowler, for

Ancient is his snare.

How may Gabriel aspire

Where Man’s dust shall fly?

If his present fame is higher,

‘Tis his roof that’s high!

All thy life is breath to take,

Knowing not, frail man,

That true living is to break

The days’ talisman.

Of the science of the West

This much I will speak:

Sweet are sighs and tears expressed

While the gaze is weak.

O’er the Crescent and the Cross

I am raised sublime;

Other tumult now doth toss

In the brain of Time.