English
In Praise of the King: The Coming of Spring
Drink your wine, for the season of spring is coming;
the promise of joy is arriving with the times.
From the clouds fall drops of the water of life;
on the wind comes a breath of Tartar musk.
To brighten the gathering of friends, the tulip
comes bearing a cup of sweet wine.
In the garden the blossom laughs with a hundred lips,
for the grass springs up and the flowers come into bloom.
The song of the birds rising from the meadow
sets the minds of lovers boiling with longing.
The bud tears a thousand shirts from desire
when the nightingale's cry reaches its ear.
In the garden you would think a cat prowls along the branches,
claws spread, coming to hunt its prey.
Wherever it passes it brings the dead to life:
the breeze that comes from the banks of the stream.
Now, like the bud and the rose, everyone with a living heart
comes to sit in the shade of the willow and the plane tree.
Treasure the waterside and the company of beauties,
now that the season of kisses and embraces has come.
I am the slave of the fortune of the one who, drunk, comes to the meadow
leading by the hand a beauty lovely as a painting.
The rose parades in the garden, gold on its palm,
coming to the court of the world's king with its offering.
The beauty of the world and the faith, before whose gate
the sun comes each day like a servant.
Lord of kings, whose fortune
receives its aid from the presence of God.
A king whose news of good fortune and triumph
comes down from the height of the blue vault of heaven.
The sky is but a treasury of the gardens of your threshold;
how could the highest heaven even count in comparison?
On the day of battle the sun, that sword-wielder, at every moment
begs for mercy from the wound of your blade.
From the wind of your spear, fierce as fire yet flowing like water,
your enemy comes, heart burned, laid low in the dust.
Wherever your banner goes, victory and conquest
come to greet it from the right and the left.
The blessed shadow of your world-conquering canopy
disdains even to keep company with the sun.
Whoever looks upon his own servitude to you feels shame
at the very names of Rustam and Isfandiyar.
From the sayings of others I offer a single verse,
one whose recitation here serves the purpose well.
Enjoy your life and give your heart the promise of joy,
for the scent of your good fortune drifts through the age.
Live a thousand years in triumph, for your fortune
comes successful to whatever you set your mind upon.