THE CUP’S APPEARANCE
I wish the Beloved would cure me,
If He does not treat me kindly, try injustice.
Sufi whose heart has not seen any light of purity,
Took a cup from her, by which to have joy.
We feel pain from the Beloved’s unfaifulness teasing our soul,
Bring forth the cup of wine oh the cup-bearer, so she may show faithfullness,
The friend was alienated, give me a cup,
May this sadstricken Beloved be changed into an acquaintance.
Secretly towards the Beloved’s abode I set off,
I fear that the “Muhtasib” reveals my secrets.
That rose-cheeked Beloved stained into my assembly,
So as to reveal the secrets of this pious's heart.
With unknotted tress call on the city Sheikh,
Don’t let the sheikh of the rogues, assembly make a pretence.