Attar, Ghazals, Ghazal No 7

Once again, this old pain-drinker has become passionate.

He drank a hundred goblets, one after another, from the blood-filled chalice of our heart.

When he became firm in his work and intoxicated from the Kaaba,

He became a believer in his own disbelief and grew weary of our Islam.

Then he said, "How long shall this desire last? We are just a single breath and a single pain."

We always say one thing and nothing more, until both worlds became subservient to us.

He became a master with little effort, without a home or foundation.

He became free from fame and shame; this notoriety is good.

Then he became a man among men, a unique individual from both worlds,

And from the pain, the pain of his pain, our seven limbs became intoxicated.

The heart became like a lover, the soul became useless,

Until every wine was poured from the goblet of the heart into our cup.

When the soul drank that wine, it became senseless from ecstasy.

The intellect became silent from the world, and our peace departed from the heart.

Attar was secretly drinking blood in the tavern of the Magi,

And a cry arose from the world, "O our drunken, pain-drinking vagabond!"