Gracefully, this young one rises and moves,
A cypress so straight, its beauty proves.

His eyebrow, an archer’s bow for love’s despair,
His tresses, a snare for the wise to beware.

If such beauty exists within Islam’s bounds,
Then heaven above and earth below confounds.

O flame that burns the harvest of hearts,
Rest, for your sparks ignite countless starts.

Slay without guilt, for your servant I remain,
Plunder without law, for your theft is no bane.

I endure your pain, for it is my cure,
I bear your thorn, for sweet dates it ensures.

To be the center of talk, a public sight,
Is shameful, but with you, it feels right.

Your safety is all that matters to me,
The blame I bear is a trifle, you see.

Saadi has cast his soul at your feet,
This station he sought from the Divine seat.

If you wish for him to live again,
Say once: “He is ours,” and end his pain.