Expand for me, O God, the blossom of hope,
Shew me a rose from the eternal garden!
Cause my garden to smile from the lip of that rosebud,
And invigorate my brain with the sense of its perfume!
In this abode of affliction, where is no rest,
Make me ready to acknowledge the multitude of Thy mercies!
Fill my mind full of thoughts to Thy praise,
Make thanksgiving the business of my tongue!
Give me for a spear the power of my reason,
In the battle-field of words give me the victory!
Thou hast made my heart a treasure—house—jewel upon jewel,
Let my tongue duly weigh the jewels of my heart!
Thou hast placed in my navel the musk-pod of musk,
Let my musk spread its fragrance from Kaf to Kaf! (all round the world)—*
Give to my reed a sugar-sweet tongue to write my poem,
Shed over my book an amber-diffusing perfume!
For the object of my words has not yet been attained,
And nothing but a name has yet been left of its story.
In this the wine-house of pleasant histories
I find not an echo of this sweet melody.
The guests drank their wine, and forthwith departed,
Departed, and left only the empty wine-jars.
Of those who are seasoned or unseasoned in such banquets,
I see not one whose hand holds a goblet of this wine:
Come then, Jami, throw off thy timidity;
Be it clear, or the dregs only, bring to us what thou hast!