The reason why the luminous moon glows,
Is because of kisses who the sun blows.
An ecstatic joy is like a sweet breeze:
Suddenly it comes and suddenly goes.
When you have nothing to tell a stranger,
Mention stars; of their beauty each eye knows.
O ignorant one! You do much good deeds,
A cure on sad hearts your sweet smile bestows.
While the enemy shoots at his brothers,
Poor Mâhî seems to adore their arrows.
I loved your cypress-eye from the old days,
And the glance who was shy from the old days.
Eyes of emerald were scratched by the world,
And I can't see its cry from the old days.
Your lips and voice remained the same delights,
Yet lack the smile and sigh from the old days.
The blush became white, the giggle a nod,
I don't get that reply from the old days.
The game of love has no rules anymore,
No coin, no card nor die from the old days.
Each thing from the past becomes desirous,
Both the truth and the lie from the old days.
Mâhî, lets get all our old friends back here,
Our own style lets apply from the old days.
Caress and then betray is not my way of love,
To let them wait and stay is not my way of love.
Although sometimes it's true, always seeing this bonding
As just a fleeting play is not my way of love.
Secrets of me and her stay a secret forever,
Putting that on display is not my way of love.
Lies and vile corruption accompanied by lust,
Leading her to that way is not my way of love.
My truth will stay I learned, even if she's beautiful,
With her to go astray is not my way of love.
I am no butterfly, although my life is one,
To love for just a day is not my way of love.
I have no love right now, only a broken heart,
But to wait and decay is not my way of love.
No one has or will have a Light like his,
He, who was sent as a Mercy and bliss.
One man, yet much uncountable blessings,
Clueless how to repay for all of this.
I do envy those who have seen his face,
To times I have not seen I do reminisce.
We still have yet not seen his bright being.
Until that Day, it is the rose we miss.
Mâhî lacks rhymes to continue this praise,
That Day will show how luminous he is.
I can't even find traces of your feet,
The dust has covered all places, every street.
All the bright tales who are concealed by veils,
Are filled with cries and smiles; bitter and sweet.
When the moonbeams are bestrewn at night,
Waves lying towards shores flit, float and fleet.
As long as the Cup of Youth is sipped from,
Smiles shine like the moon and stars who retreat.
Gain, gain and gain, but it still feels empty,
For some reason, the soul feels not complete.
That Gihon is dream-drunk and world-sober,
From sleep to awake like the Phoenix's heat.
''Stars who retreat'' is a reference to an ayah of the Qur'an: ''So I swear by the retreating stars -'' (81:15).
That harem doors veil jewels I'm aware tonight,
But still I'll decide not to visit there tonight.
The nightingale lost his way in the rose garden,
A red mist descended upon the blue air tonight.
I don't approach it neither do I forget it,
Like a lonely widow's ring of despair, tonight.
Desire would go like cinnamon mist at dawn,
To take a sip from it I will not care tonight.
A candle's flame can be turned off by sorrow's breeze,
Yet that breeze gives incense a source to flare tonight.
Two glances are to be considered forbidden,
So I'll delay one glance into a stare tonight.
O Gihon, be as lucid in dreams as in verse,
And write a dream and avoid a nightmare tonight!
Upon the cheek I see the glow of love,
How then could it present the woe of love?
A scented ringlet flows around the ears,
So my dreamy eyes see the flow of love.
With pearly gleams and some roseate hues,
Your fine gallery is a show of love.
To make me toss and turn with doubting feelings,
To not think about me, that's low of love.
With all its glamour, splendor and its grace,
If you can, make us a photo of love.
The synthy music plays; a world does bloom,
The rapper spits some rhymes; a flow of love.
Mâhî's a poet, he did write 'bout love:
''Happiness, that's what I do know of love.'''
This sheen, it is a soothing glow of moonlight,
This night, it is a calming show of moonlight.
I ponder, thinking about the rosewater
Of love, seeing it in the flow of moonlight.
I see silver-wings in the waving waters,
Spread widely, as if it's a crow of moonlight.
I view something in my imagination:
It's smelling like lilies that brow of moonlight.
Is that an ode to moonbeams, that silver shape?
In the sky there's a bowing bow of moonlight.
Let's sway like the trees in the midnight breeze!
Silently in the meadow of moonlight.
The silence penetrates the lonely night,
Mâhî, that it is calm, you know of moonlight.
I did sight a dreamy face at twilight,
Who showed me a distant grace at twilight.
At the boulevard, blues did fade away,
Roseate is every place at twilight.
The smell of engines, the scents of delights,
Sweet fragrances leave a trace at twilight.
Here and there people roam around lovely,
There are many kinds of ways at twilight.
So many glowing faces and one sun,
Asking, watching is my gaze at twilight.
With a warm and cozy way of glowing,
I see many lovely plays at twilight.
Writing is the bard Mâhî at twilight,
Painting are the rosy rays at twilight.
The liar did say every kind of thing,
Sugar-coated talks, drunk it made the king.
Between the winter, between the autumn,
I saw the lovely summer and the spring.
Between the mockers, between the rulers,
At that gathering, a sweet voice did sing.
It is no love or lust; it's admiration,
For beauty and air a person does bring.
The bird of summer sings, teaches this place,
And Mâhî's near it; he's under its wing.