O spring of lovers, do you have news of our beloved?

O you from whom the meadow is pregnant, and O you from whom the gardens laugh!

O sweet-breathed winds, the help of lovers!

O purer than soul and place, where were you, where?

O sedition of Rome and Abyssinia, I am amazed at this sweet scent

Was it Joseph's shirt, or the soul of Mustafa himself?

O stream of righteousness, you are from the stream of our beloved

You are Sinai on breasts, you increase life on souls.

O your 'qil' and 'qal' are sweet, and O all your forms are sweet

Your moon is sweet, your year is sweet, O year and moon, your servant!