English
Poem 11
Gone are the days when you had time for me,
when my greeting still earned an answer from you.
Out of pride and out of your beauty,
you scolded me sweetly with every breath.
You kept giving me your lovely promises,
as if those promises were only a mirage.
Now that the time of union has passed,
it seems those days were nothing but a dream.
In my hand, from the cupbearer of the feast,
there was a full cup of wine with every breath.
I am left wounded, and you never ask
how this ruined, broken soul is doing.
Blessed were the days when, from the charity of your lips,
your lovers received their rightful share.
Saadi, how did the season of union slip away?
What a pity, it was nothing but a mirage.