Ibn al-Fāriḍ

In the art of describing his beauty, time itself expires

and yet still there remains in him, what has not been described

 

وعـلى تَـفَنّنِ واصِـفيهِ بِحُسْنِهِ          يَـفنى الـزّمانُ وفيه ما لم يُوصف

 

Anon.

A robe woven from the cloth of 29 letters

would still fall short of his glory

 

ألا أنّ ثوبا خيط من نسج تسعة     وعشرين حرفاً من معاليه قاصر

 

Whoever’s tasted the drink of our people knows it

And will only pour the purest wine

Passing out, he’ll know the outcome of his oblivion

And whoever realizes this tomorrow will give his soul for it

 

من ذاق طعم شراب القوم يدريه      ولم يروق رحيقاً غير صافيه

يغمى عليه فيدري غب غيبته     ومن دراه غدا بالروح يشريه

 Rumi

 

 

Whatever description or explanation I give of love

when I reach love, I am ashamed of it

Although the description of the tongue clarifies

love that is tongueless is of grater clarity

As the pen hastened to write

when it came to love, it split on itself

In describing love, Reason becomes mired

like an ass in mud

It is love alone, it is love alone

which has explained love and being in love

 

Original:

هرچه گویم عشق را شرح و بیان

چون به عشق آیم خجل باشم از آن

گرچه تفسیر زبان روشنگرست

لیک عشق بی‌زبان روشنترست

چون قلم اندر نوشتن می‌شتافت

چون به عشق آمد قلم بر خود شکافت

عقل در شرحش چو خر در گل بخفت

شرح عشق و عاشقی هم عشق گفت

Hafez:

The tongue of the pen cannot express the mystery of love

The description of longing is beyond the limits of writing

 

قلم را ان زبان نبود كه سرّ عشق گويد باز

وراى حدّ تقرير است شرح ارزومندى