The Masnavi of Giti and Saeed - Part 9, 10 and 11

Part Nine — Saeed's Love Revealed to All Young Saeed rose in joyful flight, A bird set free in morning light. Through streets and lanes he wildly spun, His careful mask now came undone. He sang of Giti's promised grace, Of all he'd seen in her sweet face. But such delight, so loudly told, Released the secret love he'd hold. The very rooftops heard his call, His tale rang out beyond the wall. The hidden sorrow he'd concealed Was through his rapture now revealed. His family cried out in dismay: "Turn back from love's destructive way! This fire burns too wild and bright, What place has passion in what's right? The weight of love will crush your soul, No heart survives when out of control. No lover leaves this game unmarked, Its chaos leaves all spirits sparked! So let this reckless passion go, Let wisdom guide you from this woe!" Part Ten — The Second Cupbearer's Song O Saqi, bring that wine divine, The ancient draught, the mystic sign! And minstrel, play the pipe and lyre, Let notes of longing spark the fire. That vintage hidden from the king, Let scent and color to me bring. One drop of it makes iron weep, A flame more fierce than fire's leap. Pour now a cup that melts the steel, With light and warmth its depths reveal. Deliver me from longing's sting, How long must aching sorrow sing? O minstrel of the soul, arise, And lift your voice to starlit skies. Return with honey on your tongue, Your smiling lips like songs unsung. Now sit and watch the lovers sway, Their hearts in joy's bright array. My heart has fallen for wine's grace, My ears are drunk on music's face. But tell me—what if dawn delays? What if union's night still stays? Part Eleven — Saeed Sets Forth to See Giti At last young Saeed resolved to go, At break of day, through joy and woe. His heart a storm without a shore, His breast with sweet pain and more. Each moment seemed a year in length, His trembling hopes were all his strength. Though scorned by kin, he bore their scorn, For Giti's love, his soul was sworn. He wandered on with thoughts confused Of that sweet breeze with musk infused, That playful girl with fragrant hair Might speak with him or show she cared. Perhaps she'd grant one peaceful hour And free his soul from sorrow's power. But if she turned him from her gate, How could he bear such cruel fate? If she should choose another's heart Or let some other love to start, What could poor Saeed, wounded, do With shattered heart and spirit blue?