At Dawn I Open My Eyes to Your Light

At dawn, when I lift my eyes to your light, I knock at heaven's gate as one who knows you. A servant would not bow to a royal throne, even grown rich, he'd rather beg one turn at your door. If you lift the veil, what chaos would break loose, since even hidden, your beauty steals every heart. Cast one merciful glance toward the ranks of lovers, so the travelers' night turns to day in your light. At your majestic door, people plead over their bad deeds, while I bring only the story of my helplessness. Servants would not submit to any king's decree, unless it bows first in servitude to your sovereignty. If one day you drive me off, make me a slave of hell, for its fire will be quenched by my weeping in your absence. This is not your path, Saadi, this modest, solitary pose, as long as old age and piety are just illusions in your mind.