Think Not That with Kevser's Praises Hearts Become

Think not that with Kevser's praises hearts become of joy full;
Preacher, rather doth the tale of mouth and kiss the soul rule.

Thinking of her rubies red, whene'er I drink tobacco,
The nargila 's a flask of wine, the pipe-bowl is a sumbul.

Know how holy is her land: — who dwelleth in Edirna,
Ere he to the Ka'ba bends, doth turn him to Istambul.