O Cupbearer, O Cupbearer, today You and I exist here
and have fallen into deep water.
Let’s find out who knows how to swim.
If a flood covers the Earth with waves as big as camels,
the birds don’t have to worry.
They think of nothing while flying in the sky.
Our face shines with gratitude.
We are mixed like fish into the waves of the sea.
Sea and flood give life to fish and make them more lively.
O Master, give us a boat.
O water, rise, engulf us with your waves.
O Moses, Son of Imran, hit the sea with your staff.
This wine causes a different kind of drunkenness in every head,
but the Love of that Cupbearer is enough for me.
You can have the rest of it.
The Cupbearer grabbed all of the drunks’ hats yesterday.
Today, He is serving cup after cup of wine
in order to take our mantles away
O Beautiful One of whom the Moon and Jupiter are jealous,
You are with me secretly, like a fairy,
pulling me nicely, but not telling me where You are leading me.
O both of my eyes, the light of my eyes,
wherever I go, You are with me.
If You want, pull me towards the tavern. Make me drunk.
Or, pull me towards Nothingness. Annihilate me!
Accept this world as Mount Sinai.
We also want manifestation like Moses.
Every moment, God manifests, and every moment,
the mountain is broken into pieces.
A time comes when that mountain becomes green,
another time when it turns extremely white, clear and beautiful,
or another when it becomes pearl, then later, red amber.
O ones who want to reach Him, to see Him,
look in those mountain places where He manifests.
O mountain, what kind of wine did you drink?
We have become drunk. Come, O Friend, come!
O Owner of the garden, O Gardener,
why do You hold onto us?
Why don’t You let us be free?
If we turn into grapes, You take away our turban.
Divan-i Kebir, Volume 1, Ghazal 6, verses 109-120, pages 20-21.