"The poet is always consistent in his thought, and often repetitive in his expression, so that all his writing shed an abundance of mutually clarifying light. When all is said and done, however, it must be admitted that a number of passage in these poems still baffle the understanding, which is hardly surprising, considering the occasional nature of some of the references (for these poems were the spontaneous utterance of an ecstatic, unpremeditated and unrevised). There is also the further difficulty, that the language of the poems, though of course greatly influenced by literary style, is basically colloquial." --A.J. Arberry
A little apple, half red and half yellow, made tale of rose and saffron.
When the lover became parted from the beloved, the beloved carried off the airs of pride, the lover the pains. These two contrary hues through a single separation have displayed on the cheeks of both. It is not appropriate for the beloved's cheeks to be yellow; for the lover to be red and fat is unseemly. Since the beloved has begun to show airs, endure his airs, lover, and do not battle against them. I am like a thorn and my master is as the rose; they are twain, in reality they are one. He is as the sun, and I am the shadow; his is the heat of continuance, mine the cold. Goliath went out against Toliath; David measured well the links. He heart was born of the body bu is the king of the body; even as man is born of woman. Again within the heart there is a heart hidden, like a horseman hidden in dust; The stirring of the dust is caused by the horseman--it is he who caused this dust to dance. No chess is it, for you to apply your thoughts; with trust in God fling away your counter like dice. Shams-i Tabriz is the sun of the heart; that heat nurtured the fruits of the heart.
Ah, what was there in that light-giving candle that it set fire to the heart, and snatched the heart away? You who have set fire to my heart, I am consumed, O friend; come quickly, quickly! The form of the heart is not a created form, for the beauty of God manifested itself from the cheek of the heart. I have no succour save in his sugar, I have no profit save in his lip. Remember him who one dawn released this heart of mine from the chain of your tress. My soul, the first time I saw you my soul heard something from your soul. When my heart drank water from your fountain it drowned in you, and the torrent snatched me away.