Alas for the eye that has not beheld your face,
Or, having seen you, gazed upon another’s grace.

If rivals were to see the visage of this fairy,
They’d understand why madness rends garments so freely.

Who is it whose radiant beauty, like the sun,
Draws a dark circle of musk around everyone?

O wise one, if you endure a stone at your feet,
You’d know why Farhad carved through rock to meet.

No pity stirs in the heart of one unaware,
Of the sweetness of Shirin’s words so fair.

From the curve of your bow-shaped brow in the city,
No heart is untouched, no breast still—such is its pity.

It’s beyond thought, what a wondrous tree you are,
Clear it is no one has tasted your fruit thus far.

From the divine pen of power, without parallel,
Your beauty shines in mirrors, where its secrets dwell.

We desire from you nothing but you, indeed,
Give sweetness to those who’ve never tasted love’s need.

Despite this deluge of sorrow upon Saadi’s brow,
It’s no wonder his eyes overflow with tears now.