He was a good boon companion, and had by heart so many of
the verses of the great masters of poetry that he could in one
night recite a thousand verses on any subject. He also imitated
the great poets well. He was for some time with Mīrzā Niamu-
“That face like the pomegranate flower became like a par-
terre of roses from the glow of wine,
O rose-sellers, good news! Roses are plentiful.”“In the breeze of the rose-garden I smelt but the odour of
thee.
I passed by no rose but it wafted to me the odour of my
love.”“If my heart becomes a flame of fire, what then? It will
wither away.
If the rose of my fate blossom from paradise, what then?
It will fade.”“Each sigh that I heaved over thee in regret
Has become a palm-tree to adorn the meadow of my
repentance.”