CLVIII. NAMĪ OF TABRĪZ.*

The lustre of his poetry is vouched for by his trade, which is that of an appraiser of jewels. He has a mind well adapted to poetry and has composed a dīvān, which is well known.

The following verses are his:—

A quatrain.

“She is a capricious beauty whose lips are full of wiles,
All the clear-sighted are smitten with love's madness by
her;
Is that a red turban which she has bound on her head? 378
Or is it the cord of my soul steeped in blood?”

“The scar of my love's cruelty, which is on my breast—
Ah, call it not a scar! It has long been dear to me.”

“How can I write an account of my condition on the page?
For the page is at once moistened by my tears.

The pigeon brought me thy letter and I live. I should have
died
Had not that bird of auspicious pinion brought me that
letter.
I shall write at length to her of Namī's state
But where will that careless cypress-like beauty cast an eye
on the letter?”

“In the bath I saw Parī Khānum with a face like a fairy,
Nay, I saw a spark of fire sitting in the water.”

“From thy theft of my heart and thy subsequent avoidance of
me it is clear
That the sole object of thy friendship with me was the theft
of my heart.”

“The down which sprouts on the rose of my beloved's cheek
Is a violet which sprouts on a bed of tulips.”