Calcutta nr. 98
When your fragrance reached my heart, borne upon the zephyr,
Having left me, it leapt in search of you,
It no longer concerns itself about me, who am sick,
For, having absorbed your fragrance, becomes your idolater.
How long shall I pile up bricks upon the surface of
the sea? I am sick of the idolaters of the temple.
Who has said that Khayyám shall be a denizen of
Hell? Who has ever gone to Hell and who has come from Paradise?
From the wind of the East when my heart thy scent did take,
Me 't left and thy track incontinent did take.
Now not a thought betides it of me, for it,
When ta'en of thy scent, thy temperament did take.
From zephyrs when my heart thy fragrance takes,
It seeks and grasps thy nature, me forsakes,
And now there comes no thought to it of me.
For thy scent ta'en, its own thy nature makes!