O joyful breath of the morning breeze,
You've come from my beloved, welcome!

What news did the caravan of night hear from the dawn?
What tidings does the bird of Solomon bring from Sheba?

Is my beloved still in a state of anger?
Or is there talk of forgiveness?

Have you come from the door of peace or conflict?
Should I walk with fearful steps or hope?

If you pass by my beloved's door again,
O messenger of the morning breeze,

Tell him that the weak one has little strength left,
How long can this lifeless form endure?

All those reassurances, promises, and covenants,
You did not do well not to keep faith.

But if the time of reunion is far,
Let the matter forget peace.

Until death's hand reaches our throats,
Do not let go of our hand.

He is not truly a friend
who forgets a friend in trouble.

The weariness of seeking you is a comfort,
The pain of suffering is with the hope of a cure.

I cannot lift my head like a lute,
Even if my back is skinned like a tambourine.

Every dawn I take a breath from love,
The next day I hear it openly.

The story of my pain has reached everyone,
Whose familiar breath would not take it in?

If Saadi's lament reaches the mountain,
The mountain will lament in a loud voice.