I, like Moses in the time of the fire of longing and encounter

Went towards Mount Sinai, hail to me, hail to me

I saw there a king, a royal nourisher of souls

Heart-stealing, soul-increasing, very gentle and with a beautiful countenance

Mount Sinai and plain and desert from the radiance of his light

Had become like an eternal paradise from glory and light

The silver-bodied cupbearers with golden goblets in hand

Their faces like the shining moon before our sultan

The saffron-colored faces from his beauty had radiance

The eyes of the confidants from his dust had kohl

From the melody of his love, the earth there was boiling

And from the desire for union with him, there was constant spiritual dance in the heavens

When that king of kings looked with one glance into annihilation

He placed the foot of endeavor of annihilation on the head of eternity

The musician there breaks the veils, his own light

How will he allow any veil to remain in the air in both worlds?

The shadow of kindness has gathered with the sun of grace

The gathering of opposites has become permissible from the perfection of his love

When the morning breeze snatched the veil from his face

The imagination of all their dignity was erased there and became futile

But in the annihilation of their existence, one had become a hundred

Existence is annihilated and the annihilation of existence was seen by me there

Until I saw from beyond that soul-like world

Particles in its air from fidelity and purity

I became very ashamed of his face at that time, so inevitably

At every moment I was cutting my zunnar (a sacred thread worn by Zoroastrians) from oppression and injustice

I said, "O moon, I have repented, do not reject my repentances"

He said, "There are many paths before you until you see repentance"

He came truthfully and said, "And I have fallen far from the moon"

Like a lost pilgrim in the Mogilan (a desert) of annihilation

The light of that moon is like Canopus, and the city of Tabriz is that of Yemen

This was a symbol of our king, Sadr al-Ala