XL: In this parterre, a single leaf of thine…

In this parterre, a single leaf of thine there will not be, O rose!
Shouldst thou become acquainted with autumn's dire inclemency.

Account as great good fortune, these thy few days in the garden,
That the nightingales, for thy sake, beat their breasts and bewail.

Nothing whatever of the glory and dignity of that garden will remain,
When the plaintive melody of the nightingale is hushed within it.

Upon that wine-flask, which the cupbearer hath with him,
The eyes turn not towards, since it is devoid of any wine.

Behold the passage of this bridge, by the people of the world!
See! some fall, whilst some outstrip others, and cross before them.

It will never be effaced from its memory, as long as it liveth,
If the partridge may ever have felt the talons of the hawk.

The decrees by fate ordained, cannot be changed by any means,
Tho', over thyself, thou shouldst read the four kuls, unceasingly.

Lovers, who unto love devote themselves, will never grieve;
Nor for the backbitings of marplots, and tale-bearers, will they care.

What shall I, a poor darwesh do? neither hand nor might have I,
Otherwise, indeed, I would have exhausted the whole upon the world.

Such a dear one I possess--from this, thou mayest of her loveliness judge,
When the fragrance of musk is nothing to that of her ringlets.

How can he possibly lie on his bed, free from sorrow and care,
Who may be aware of the dread earthquakes and tornados of fate?

In the assumed coldness of the beloved, there is a pleasure withal;
But miserable Khushhal, alas! from her real indifference, dieth.