Classic Poem

Are there two hearts that are united, they will part in two a mountain,
To the union of two natures how many joys succumb?
Black must be her tresses, dimples she must have and jewels;
The face that is a fair one all men love to gaze upon it.
They who sincerely in this world love one another,
Trouble and good fortune to them are all alike.
People curse the Devil as the source of every evil,
Yet it is their own passions that rule all in their actions.
A hundred troubles round, the result of our own passions,
Two hundred our cupidity prepares before our face.
He who portions sugar, many those that flock around him,
Each one as he takes his share puts the other to one side.
Blest indeed is concord, where hearts and wills are joined together;
Where there are disputes two-fold troubles will be theirs.
Let each mortal's prayer be, " May I need nought from another! "
Yet is there no Monarch that has not his times of need.
Give a man a rose and a simple flower will please him,
What cares the bullock or ass if his load be made of flowers?
Khush-hal's follies have become thus conspicuous in the world
As the call of the Muazzin from the lofty steeple's summit.