Remembering the beloved
we drank wine*;
we were drunk with it
before creation of the vine.
The full moon its glass,
the wine a sun circled by a crescent;
when it is mixed,
how many stars appear!
Our Lord, O our Lord!
If not for its fragrance,
I would not have found its tavern;
if not for its flashing gleam,
how could imagination picture it?
Time preserved nothing of it
save one last breath,
concealed like a secret
in the hearts of the wise ones.
Our Lord, O our Lord!
But if it is recalled among the tribe,
the worthy ones
are drunk by morn without shame or sin.
Be drunk one hour with it, and you shall have
All of time as your slave, at your command.
The one who lives sober in this world has not had a life,
And the one who dies not drunk has missed the mark.
Our Lord, O our Lord!
*Intoxicating wine in the Islamic mystical poetic tradition is often evoked by poets as a symbol of passionate love for God and immersion in the Divine Presence.
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