Your Love has made me drunk.
I am so drunk and out of myself that I keep clapping my hands.
How could I possibly know what I am doing?
I was a sour grape, but became a ripe one.
How can I present myself with a sour face?
The Beloved who sells halva is as sweet as sugar
He put a handful of that halva in my mouth.
After He opened His halva store,
He took away my house and belongings.
He left me without a store.
People say, “You shouldn’t be like that.”
I wasn’t. He is the One who made me like this.
First, He broke the jar and spilled out all the vinegar that was inside.
I yelled. “He has caused all these losses to me.”
But then, instead of one jar,
He gave me hundreds of jars of wine to drink.
He made me happy.
He baked me in His oven of trial and turbulence
and made me as rosy-cheeked as I am.
I grew old with grief like Zeliha.*
He rejuvenated me, turning me into Joseph.
I flew like an arrow from His hand.
He grabbed me and bent me like a bow.
I used to fill the sky and the Earth with sugar.
I used to resemble the Earth.
He turned me into the sky.
My heart has passed the Milky Way.
He is the One who pulled me through it.
I have seen roofs and ladders.
He is the One who caused me to lose interest in both of them.
When the world was filled with my story,
He hid me in the world, like soul.
When He found me with a soft tongue,
He immediately turned me into a translator for Himself.
I was the one with the tongue like the heart.
That’s why He explained all of heart’s secrets to me, one by one.
When my tongue started shedding blood,
He put me in His waist, like a sword.
Enough, O heart.
It is impossible to tell what that Beloved,
that impassioned friend
has done to me.
*Zeliha Wife of Potifar (Potifar was said to be the captain of the palace guard). Known only from the Book of Genesis’s account of Joseph).
Divan-i Kebir, Meter 12, Gazel 19, Pages 36-38, Verses 195-212.