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Try reading the riddle of this life,
try reading the riddle of the next.
You might as well try to pierce a pearl
without tipping your needle with diamonds.
Don’t complain that the nightingale sings
with such gusto among the flowers.
His passion and delight are also ours
as we make our way through the garden.
Has pain made you brave? Then don’t
court either despair or hope. Neither one
outlasts its little day. Take what Fate
provides; don’t brood about the past.
You’ve been so careless! You’ve neglected
the treasures and blessings of your life.
Like an idiot, you talk about days to come;
you forget that nothing of your years remain.
You weep your tears in vain. Your sorrow
is fruitless, your remorse comes too late.
Look, Makhfi: Why sweep the threshold with
your eyelashes? You’ve deserted the shrine.
