108
THE QUATRAINS OF
159.
Till the Friend pours his wine to glad my heart,
No kisses to my face will heaven impart:
They say, "Repent in time;" but how repent,
Ere Allah's grace hath softened my hard heart?
160.
When I am dead, take me and grind me small,
So that I be a caution unto all,
And knead me into clay with wine, and then
Use me to stop the wine-jar’s mouth withal.
161.
What though the sky with its blue canopy
Doth close us in so that we cannot see,
In the etern Cupbearer’s Wine, methinks,
There float a myriad bubbles like to me.
159. C. L. N. A. I. Meaning, man is powerless to mend his ways without Divine grace.
160. C. L. N. A. I. J.
