Rise, Let Us Cast Off the Blue Robe

Rise, so we can set aside this blue-dyed monk's cloak, and gamble away this idolatry that goes by the name of piety. Every hour a new shrine is set up for idol-worship; show us true oneness, so we can smash these idols. For once, I long to drink wine among the young, so the children will trail after this old dreg-drinker. From sheer misery, a dog like Qitmir became like a human; from the delirium of greatness, a Balaam turned into a dog. From this cramped, lonely corner my heart pulls toward the open plain, where the dawn breeze brings sweet news from the garden. Don't be careless if you have sense; seize the moment if you have a heart; such days as these may never come again. Where the garden cypress sways on its wooden foot, let us too set that silver-bodied cypress dancing. My beloved, that breaker of promises, the one my calm eyes long for, no, don't call her heart's ease, for she stole all ease from my heart. World, faith, patience, and reason, all left me in grief for her; where the sultan pitches his tent, no commotion of common folk remains. My tears fall like rain, yet fire leaps from my clouded eyes; speak this to those who are ripe; the raw ones feel no burning. Saadi will not heed blame, even if his life goes out in this pursuit; take away the heavy-souled Sufi, cupbearer, and bring the cup.