O star, inform our friend

So that he may understand our blood-drinking heart

Inform that physician of lovers

So that he may give a syrup to our sick one

Tell the sugar seller, the sweet one

So that he may give prosperity to our market

If you turn your heart in your head

The enemy will not hear our secrets

Then in love, I will become the enemy's desire

For the enemy asks about our work

Although our enemy has no soul

Burn the soul of our enemy holder

If there is a flower on your head, until you wash it

Bring it and make bloom our rose garden

Come, O Shams of Tabriz, luminous one

With that face, give light to our sight