I Am a Ruby

I am giving up using my comb,
refusing to return the mirror’s gaze
I have no heart nor zest
For self-displays.
In any case,
I am radiant of face.
But if no one can observe,
Of what use is grace?
If someone is inclined,
Let him change my mind.
I am a spectacle, all alone,
neither displayer nor displayed.
I am ruby wrapped in a rag,
The moon in its darkened phase;
I am a rustic beauty,
A blossom in a desolate place.
As is gold buried in the dust,
Or a pearl lost in the sea;
A candle under cover,
Or in the void, the song of the shahnai
Why was the nightingale caged?
Why was Yusuf enchained?*
Whose idea was that?
What wisdom so ordained?
What a shocking view it is,
Astonishing beyond astonishment.
That beauty of form
can be seen as unfortunate.
In the company of rivals,
Like a candle, I weep
Even with this beauty,
In spite of all this grace.
I cannot find the words
My meaning to express.
How can one so powerless
Make clear her great distress?

-Z. Kh. Sh. (Zay Khan Sheen)
Translated by Gail Minault