Attar of Nishapur

Your curls’ breeze revives Jesus’ breath;

    your face’s glow reveals Moses’ vision.

Head for the garden to drink dew at dawn;

    the breeze reports the flower to the nightingale.

Spiritual yearning revokes physical craving,

    Desire the Beloved; reject the manna and quails.

If only you'd emerge from behind the veils

    to burn the cloak of pretence and deliver the truth.

My heart demands the touch of your curls

    but with hearts in each hair, what need for mine?

I’m abstinent for thirty years, but Ill become a wine-seller

    should you reflect your splendour in my cup.

If my Beloved would throw aside the veils

    Mani’ gallery would be splendidly adorned.

If my Beloved would raise the veils

    youd see only the pious at the tavern.

In the pits of Hell ‘Attar will be in your debt

    if youd shine us your glory from Heaven. 

from 50 poems by Attar