Show your Face
For the Orchard and Rosegarden
Show your face, for the orchard and rosegarden, are my desire;
open your lips, for abundant sugar, is my desire.
Sun of beauty, come forth one moment out of the cloud, for
that glittering, glowing countenance is my desire.
Out of your air, I heard the sound of the falcon-drum; I returned,
for the sultan’s forearm is my desire.
You said capriciously, “Trouble me no more; be gone!” That
saying of yours, “Trouble me no more,” is my desire,
And your repulse, “Be gone, the king is not at home,” and
those mighty airs and brusqueness of the doorkeeper, are my
desire.
In the hand of everyone who exists, there are filings of
beauty; that quarry of elegance and that mine are my desire.
This bread and water of heaven’s wheel are like a treacherous
torrent; I am a fish, a leviathan, Oman is my desire.
Like Jacob, I am crying alas, alas; the fair visage of Joseph of
Canaan is my desire.
By Allah, without you the city is a prison for me; I wander
