In Praise of Shah Sheikh Abu Ishaq

From the blossoms the beauties of the garden have veiled their faces; the young brides of the meadow have adorned themselves with gold and jewels. It is as if nature's painters have traced fresh designs of ruby and gold upon the rose branches. So many canopies of sweet herbs are spread through the garden that they have blocked the eastern sun's path across the lawns. No wonder the rose boasts a tyrant's power, for under the king's justice they have folded their hands respectfully in its marketplaces. The birds of the holy garden, for the sake of honor, have bound the charm of the king's praise around their wings. Look at the rose enthroned in the garden, a crown woven on its head; it has drunk the water of life and won the kingdom of Alexander. Once again the cypress holds its head high in the garden, and the rose consoles the lovesick nightingale. The dew-fresh tulip holds its cup, yet every moment, like the drunken, the narcissus casts its bold, roving glance. See how the water-carrier cloud, coloring garden and meadow, keeps washing its robes clean like the Sufis at every prayer. The morning breeze leaps into the garden at every dawn, reaching out its hand to the young brides of the sweet herbs. If the cypress boasts of matching my beloved's stature, it is no fault: it offers that support only through its height. The garden's painter arranges all kinds of sweet herbs, each moment preparing them for the sultan's feast. Sheikh Abu Ishaq, the crown-bestowing, triumphant king, sun of the seven climes, shadow of the Lord. You who have come as heir to Solomon's kingdom over the world; the sky, like the earth, has come under your command. Whatever fate had power to ordain, your power has mastered; whatever destiny made hard has come easy before you. The pearl fled the sea for refuge at the door of your generosity; the gem left the mine and came begging before your hand. Anyone who lets a thorn of rebellion enter his heart finds his mind scattered like the tangled locks of the fair. Every arrow the wheel of fate lets fly from its ambush strikes the armor of your enemy's very soul. For your envier, in the idol-temple of grief and the frenzy of misfortune, giving up his life is all that separation from you has earned him. In no age has a king like you arisen; no such protector and refuge has ever risen for realm and faith. You whose sword and pen are the champions of the throne of kingship; you whose lofty resolve makes its nest at Saturn's summit. Your exalted presence is the abode of peace for fortune, and the sanctuary of your court is the safe haven of the kingdom. Day and night, to scatter offerings at your feast, the mine nurtures its jewels in its heart's core and the oyster its pearls in its mouth. From dread of your wrath, in the depths of the encircling sea, the fish forever wears mail and the turtle its armored coat. If the lightning of your sword casts its reflection on the fourth heaven, the gall of the shining sun turns to water at once. I have read a verse that must be offered here, a precious pearl from the tongue of Anvari, that lord of his age. «You who have received Solomon's kingdom from God to the end of time, whatever you sought, save an equal, you have gained through God's grace.» As long as the heavens turn, may your reign endure; may the ball of the sky lie in the curve of your command's polo-stick. When they light the candle in the bedchamber of your glory, may the sun's disk be but a moth to your chamber's candle. May the ancient old man of the wheel, whose whole wealth is a single grain, be a gleaner in the harvest of your bounty and grace. In eternity past, fortune made a pact with your majesty; until the Day of Judgment may it hold to that covenant with you. May every sudden calamity that descends from the sky fall entirely to the share of your ignorant foe on earth. May the holy spirit whom the people call Gabriel be, like me, forever praying for you and singing your praise. May the heavens be, and remain, obedient to your every command and prohibition; may your enemy's home and household be, and remain, forever ruined.