Second Prelude

The sky bends like a bow at the mere thought of your bow, and trembles; the sun's ray pictures your spear, and trembles. If the strength of your arm came to Rostam's mind, the arrow on his bowstring would freeze in place and tremble. If the heavens imagined your fury, in fear of punishment they would forget their old grudges and tremble. Suppose the West remembered your form: the sun would stick in its mouth like a morsel and tremble. If an eloquent speaker tasted the flavor of your words, his own speech would knot on his tongue from shame, and tremble. If Mercury, scribe of the heavens, glanced at your pen, his pen would sweat with shame between his fingers and tremble. What awe of him has settled in the heart of the sky, that it sits like dust on his threshold and trembles? When your enemy sees the flame of your sword from afar, his breath rises like smoke in fear for his life, and he trembles. So deeply does dread of you settle in the foe's heart that his quaking body falls to the depths of hell and trembles. My king, in your praise stands Fayyaz, a sharp and zealous wit, who scatters the stars of his own sky in tribute, and trembles. When the morning breeze hears the scent of your praise in his words, it scatters flowers with every breath of joy, and trembles. If in the garden the nightingale sang a single point of his, the rosebud would kiss its mouth a thousand times and tremble. Yet before you he is so helpless with shame that the very bone of his soul melts and trembles. Like a lover who, longing, pours out his heart to the beloved, a thousand fine words knot on his tongue, and he trembles. See his hidden love, do not see his open faults; for he has melted away, and even his open shame hides itself, and trembles. As long as the willow stands at the garden's edge, it is ashamed before your young boxwood stature, and trembles. Your beloved's bearing is as upright as the boxwood; your enemy, like a faint-hearted willow, trembles in the wind.