Nizami

‘Her appearance was that of a most beauteous book in which all of the subtlest, most beautiful characters of our alphabet had been written. Her hair was curled like the hook of the letter “Jim”; her figure was as lithe and slender as an “Alif”; her mouth was curved like a “Mim”. Yes, when you add these three letters together, they spell “Jam” [goblet], and that is what she was: a precious goblet of crystal reflecting the secrets of the universe!

‘Her eyes are narcissi that flower at the mouth of a stream: look deep into them and you can see her dreams!

Honey turns to poison in my mouth and everything I touch turns to dust.

Tears fall from his eyes like rain from a spring cloud, and when he speaks of his dead father his words would melt the iciest of hearts.”

In mourning for your father she had put on a dark-blue dress: she looked like the most beautiful desert violet I had ever seen.

This is a parchment of sorrow, sent by one grief-stricken soul to another. It comes from me, a prisoner, and is meant for you, you who have broken through your chains and attained freedom.

I know that your blood reddens the earth at sunrise and at sunset, yet you live deep in the heart of the mountains like a gem trapped in stone.

I am the moon and you are my sun, giving me light from afar; forgive me that my orbit, being different to yours, keeps me away from you always.

It is but a tale and a cry, a swift sojourn in life’s caravanserai that is over almost as soon as it has begun: those who arrive barely have time to unpack their bags before they must depart!

‘You are the cure for all that is wrong with me, yet at the same time you are my sickness! You are the wine in my goblet that does not belong to me; you are the crown that was made for me, but which adorns some other brow. Yes, you are my treasure, but you are in the hands of a stranger, for him to enjoy: I am but the poor beggar who is bitten by the serpent who guards you.