English
In Praise of the Great Vizier Fakhr al-Din
Do not ask how the full moon turned away from you brokenhearted when it dared to stand beside your face.
From shame at your beauty it hid its head in the world, so that it will keep wandering the earth until judgment day.
The crescent shows the bare bones of its side, so thin and yellow has the moon grown from envy of you.
If the moon is reduced to this by envy, imagine the state of anyone who falls in love with that moonlike face.
The whole floor of the earth became a rose garden from the color of your face, and the air itself grew fragrant from the scent of your hair.
Your tiny mouth and my longing for it: a subtle secret hidden away inside imagination.
Teasing, I told the rose, 'You look like my beloved!' It burst into light laughter, did it actually believe me?
First your hair spread its fire beneath your side, and only then did it become such a tyrant.
Anyone who tastes the sweetness of your ruby lips is like a parrot circling sugar in an iron cage.
Since no one has ever plucked fruit from a cypress, how could I taste any from your stature, a jasmine grown tall as a cypress?
My beauty, now that with the blade of your glance you have all at once conquered every kingdom of hearts,
tell me, what does your sorrow keep circling my heart for? What deafness makes it loiter around this humble thing?
My heart drank a draught from the cup of union with you, and by your love it only grew more drunk than before.
It must be that your eyes take instruction from the master's pen, for the pupil of your eye has become a breeder of magic.
The world will fill with jewels, narrow as your mouth, now that the master's hand has come to aid my sight.
Lord of the ministers of the age, Fakhr al-Din, whose dust of foot became a crown upon the head of the heavens.
The glory of the vizier's hand, whose passing retinue raised such dust it turned dark in the eye of the sky.
Know that the sun draws its wealth from his resolve: with a single glance the sun made itself a rich mine of light.
If the dawn tried to boast before his judgment, see how its breath turned to a dagger in its own throat.
Whoever, like a bud, does not fill his heart with love for him, has a head emptied of sense, like the hollow narcissus.
So sincerely do people recite his praise that, like the opening prayer, everyone knows his praise by heart.
Like the sun, whichever way he turns, the stirrup of his blessed will rides on to victory.
Like the narcissus, whoever does not bow his neck to his command is left barefoot and empty-handed like the pine.
The spark of his resolve, from its sheer soaring, settled on the ceiling of the heavens and became a star.
How splendid a gift, that on the stage of excellence your praise became the ornament of the bride of speech.
The lofty sky, for all its turning around itself, never found in its folds a treasure to match you.
The earth belongs to your court; that is why the sky's surface is pitted like this with the kisses of the stars.
The sound of your fame may well beat the five royal drums, for the four corners of the world have been assigned to it.
By a turn of the hem of your grace anyone whose soul was scorched by grief, glowing like a censer, found relief.
The heavens washed the face of the sun in the water of your loyalty; from the reflection of that face the world grew radiant.
A body whose form your grace shaped in its mold need not bear even the burden of gratitude to life for its living.
I was comparing the sea to your generous hand, and at once, inside the shell, the drop became a string of pearls.
The heavens tried to make a copy of your mind; it failed, and that trial burned away and became the substance of the sun.
Your palm is the wellspring of generosity, and they call that palm the one that rose above the seven green seas.
By the light of your judgment the world became Khosrow's cup; by the breath of your character the sky became a ball of amber.
The utmost hope of the lords of this age is exactly what came to you at the very start of your fortune.
Not everyone who takes up a pen will become like you, nor does everyone who ties on a belt become like the constellation of Gemini.
If the sky did not thirst for the blood of the enemy of your glory, why has it made its whole heart a mouth gaping like a wine cup?
The mere thought of your hand passed over the heart of the bud, and for that reason the fine details of its inner self turned to gold.
Your awe narrowed the world upon the heavens, so that, like your enemy, it bent double and curled into a ring.
Is it not from dread of you that the sky is bewildered like a circle? Take it as a point: your foe has become all head, all body confused.
Now that your court has granted an audience to the people of meaning, from now on it is forbidden for them to hover at any other door.
Talent had nearly perished from the hands of the world, but by your fortune its affairs took a different turn.
Though it wandered from door to door like a rumor, it has now been nailed fast to your threshold by the nail of your bounty.
Speech that lay like a scroll with its head bowed low grew, in longing for your praise, a hundred wings like a book of pages.
Time gnawed its own hand in envy at the single favor that fell to your servant from you.
This one honor from the world is enough for me: that by your fortune your praise became the very face of my book.
When I laid before my dull talent the task of praising you, it grew ashamed of its own weakness and broke into a sweat.
It ought to feel shame even before your words; suppose it all turned to the sweet waters of paradise, it would still fall short.
From the ray of a single glance that fell on your servant from you, see how bold that impudent one has grown,
that he brings you poetry as a gift to your court; surely from the height of his ignorance his head has been turned.
If this vessel is no match for Noah's ark, how did your hand guide it toward Mount Judi, its safe shore?
A vessel must always have an anchor; for this vessel, the weight of your servant became its anchor.
I wanted to say a prayer for your good fortune before this, but from fear of wearying you I cut my words short.