Has my Friend intoxicating
Or has He eyes like the ruby red poppy?
Since the image of my Friend
in my heart resides
Now one heart has a thousand eyes.
Now no need of wine have I
Now my Friend and I share four eyes.
Why search for vessels and decanters,
When my Friend has such rapturous eyes?
To You the drunken tavern is
So drenched with spirits are your eyes.
My head is alms upon Your feet,
Upon Your face I sacrifice my eyes.
The world of light from which
all brightness shines:
You have that world’s illuminating
These sad eyes in which You always
These eyes are agitated eyes.
Come my Friend, come and come
again in my eyes!
I long my Friend, I long with sorrow filled
Khadim, with hope for the sight
of my Friend,
All my being longs with exasperated eyes.
Since love, o Khadim, for Someone
There is no moment without weeping eyes.
Cupbearer, this prosperous tavern
flourishes with your spirit.
You are the beauty of the goblet, you are
the verdance of the tavern.
You are the invigoration of every
eye, in every heart you dwell.
To you is the consecration of every soul,
to you each head is given.
Your lovers are strangers to
this world, even strangers to religion,
Inebriated madmen, drunk on your affection.
Kind cupbearer, pour all the
tavern’s spirits into my cup.
This drunkard has thirsted for your spirit
He is indifferent to you, who
is infatuated with everyone.
The one you choose, to you belongs his fascination.
I too drank when I was filled
by my Friend.
Now my fortune’s turned, now the cupbearer
Every heart, infidel or believer,
You are the desire of the ka’ba, the
splendour of the temple.
I am a stone in Khwaja’s
threshold, dust on Uthman’s doorsill.
My religion is love, my cult licentiousness.
What could I possibly give you
to honour you?
This impoverished man has nothing but a
I am Khadim, I am a servant of
Khwaja, I am a slave of Uthman.
A faqir hides within my princely countenance.
Gradually, gradually over time
Majnun’s love the beauty of Laila
By lover’s effacing, erasing himself
his Beloved’s exalted beauty becomes.
In your luminous, lustre-filled
face Allah’s elegant grandeur shines.
Your ardent worshipper by love a saintly
man of Allah becomes.
He who to the world utterly worthless
He in love’s court a stunning star
All your adornments embodied
With the grace of love’s beauty, beauty’s
emperor I become.
My heart is astonished, o Khadim,
with the sight of Someone.
With the sight of Someone, Someone’s
beholder a seer becomes.
O, magician, are your eyes a
tavern charming wisdom away
Or goblets whose measure’s exhilaration?
So perfect is your prominence,
The realm of drunkenness dies for you
All wine lovers so maddened with
To you do ransom their tavern.
Cupbearer with bewitching eyes
your spirits fulfil me!
My eyes are dry goblets, before me the tavern
Clouds of mercy are spreading,
raining love’s wine,
On my head is Saqi’s shadow, beneath
my feet the taverns lie.
In the world of love, o Khadim,
lovers are exalted.
In Khwaja, comeliest of candles, they are
moths in his conflagration.
The sounding of my destiny beckoned
me with exhilarating ecstasy.
I listen to that vibrant sound resounding
throughout my own existence.
My own existence appears not
mine but the vibrant being of my Friend.
From the moment of my destruction I have
no being save living in my Friend.
You caused my existence to exist,
You are my renown.
Certainly I am not, only You exist –
In idols I see the elegant Witness
of the realms:
I found God, I witness to God, God I found
in idol worship.
Eyes of my lovely Friend, plunderer
of my faith are you:
In your infidel’s splendour I see
the worshipper of truth.
Why not dance your exuberance,
o Khadim, with every particle of your existence.
The face of your exquisite Friend reflects
in the exhilaration of your ecstasy.
In clandestine nothingness arises
the self-manifesting Self.
At the splendid Sinai the veil was removed
by the self-manifesting Self.
Without all, the One manifesting
is the elegance of annihilation.
With all, the One manifest is the beauty
of the essence.
Separate from all and in everyone,
The self-manifesting Self manifests.
In boundless realms and from
The heart’s eye has seen the self-manifesting
Existence and non-existence are
both veils, alluring the intellect.
Far from to be and not to be is the existence
of the self-manifesting Self.
In the exquisiteness of the hidden
God and in the loveliness of both worlds,
In existence and in non-existence manifests
the self-manifesting Self.
Destitute Khadim has seen in
The illustrious realm of witnessing testify
to the self-manifesting Self.
In the final poem the poet Khadim expresses
to Khwaja Mo’inuddin Chishti:
No words explain my feelings
in Your presence
My laments shall wail through time until
He engenders in my heart’s
chamber such glimmering splendour,
From one heart are born a hundred hearts
Grace of such sublimity have
You afforded me,
I cannot reflect with equity such love’s
All Your beggars are present
with empty hand,
Today what bounty will You bestow on them?
Those who have been joined in
slavery with the Khwaja, o Khadim,
Even sultans take pride in those illustrious