i raise my glass to the only divine lover;
i drink to the dregs all the wine he offers.
there is no taste i prefer to his presence;
my eyes have no light save his effulgence!
i have no motion but for his rythym;
all life derives from his ancient whim.
hunger gnaws daily until beauty’s embrace;
all thirst is for sight of his compassionate face.
my tears are a lake i would gladly drown in,
but for the pity induced by such a sin.
my only hope is the pain of despair-
i will not find him until i forsake all care.
darvish has no friend but the deep blue sky:
what he loves always remains close by.