O our restless wind, tell our message to the flower,

Saying, 'O flower, flee into the sugar, since you have become separated from the rose garden.'

O flower, you are of sugary origin, you are more worthy with sugar,

Sugar is sweet, and the flower is also sweet, and sweeter than both is fidelity.

Place your face on the face of the sugar, take pleasure and give fragrance,

In the realm of sugar, leap from the bitterness of the oppression of annihilation.

Now that you have become sugar-flower, the strength of the heart, the light of the eye,

Emerge from the flower, pass over the heart, that is from where, this is from where?

You were a companion with the thorn, like reason paired with the soul,

Go to the heavens from the earth, stage by stage until the meeting (with God).

You go in the heads of the people, you go in the hidden path,

You go from garden to garden, to the place where forms arise.

O flower, you are a rare bird, you fly unlike other birds,

Since your message has come from beyond, put down your wings and come without wings.

O flower, you have seen these things, that is why you laugh at the world,

That is why you have torn your garments, O ruby-colored cloak!

The flowers of last year, shouting from the sky in the rose garden,

Saying, 'O whoever wants a ladder, so that he may sacrifice his life in affliction.'

Come, pass from the dripping of this tray, without a path like sweat,

From the glass of the rosewater maker, like the soul from that cup of the heavens.

O fortunate and auspicious you, with your rose-colored face,

We were like you, we have become soul, peace!

From the sugar-flower, our purpose is the grace of God and our existence,

O our existence, iron-like in quality, and O the grace of God, a magnet!

The iron of wisdom, like a mirror, if it puts the wound of a spark on it,

It does not want us unless I want you without yourselves.

Listen, O heart with musky words, this speech has no end,

I dare not tell anyone those things that you tell me.

O Shams of Tabriz, tell the secret of the kings, the kingly nature,

Without letter and sound and color and scent, how can light shine without the Sun?