English
Come, Cupbearer of Souls
Come, cupbearer of souls, bring that wine into the garden.
My heart is at its happiest, for my love asks: who are you?
I told my beloved: my darling, I am utterly ruined by longing for you.
Yet I recite this by heart: are you not the one who set me ablaze?
What endless kindnesses my heart secretly receives:
you greeted me, handed me the cup, and knelt saying: you, drink.
My beloved asks me: why so bewildered and lost?
Stay serene, stay faithful, and if you love me, prove it.
In the garden of your beauty a thousand flowers have bloomed;
that garden will never fall to ruin if you are even one of its blossoms.
Come, light of my life, for you are both my soul and my beloved.
Your face is a garden, your words are bright, may your dawn shine, for you are the ruler.
From your grace, Qasem's heart is forever glad,
for this grace comes from you, whether nine or ninety.