O, your union has been a moment, and your separation has been years

O, who has quickly loaded the baggage upon the camel

Night fell, and in China, from the separation of the face like the sun

Many earthquakes have fallen in the dark night

As you were leaving suddenly, I was a bewildered, astonished one

My eyes were open, and I was silent, and those fortunes were going away

And if it were not a sudden turn of fortune for me at that time

I would have bloodied my face, I would have torn my shawls

On the path of the soul, and a hundred souls in intercession before you

In an instant, you would have sacrificed them, what then would be possessions?

Until you turned back in the dark night from the fire of laments

Until, like the events of the resurrection, terrors were seen

Until the heart saw various kinds of torment in separation

The stone would weep blood if it heard those accounts

The statures, which were like arrows, have become bows in separation

Tears became blood-stained, and all hearts became bent (like the letter 'د')

When he saw the health and perfection of the king of Tabriz

The weights (mithqals) sat in the row of deficiency from shame

For the sake of the pure, light-scattering soul, like the moon

O lord of Shams al-Din, until you do not break the hopes

From the jeweled discourse of your boundless ocean

Stones have become rubies, and states have become royal

The states of perfect ones that are beyond words

Are ashamed of the glory and radiance of those rare words

If the specks of dust of the plain find his scent

Each one will become a phoenix until it opens its wings

When it opens its wings, it will not look at both worlds

Summaries will become enamored, circling around your tent

The dust of Tabriz is the purity of our imperfect vision

May it be kohl so that it may find many perfections from it

When you illuminate the threshold of the spirit's bestowal

What value do the splendor of deeds have at that moment?

The same bestowal that you made unknowingly in secret

Makes all actions hidden, hidden

Suddenly, the egg will break, the bird of meaning will fly

So that the Homa (a mythical bird) will take omens from the shadow of that bird

You write, O Husam al-Din, and read his praise

So that, despite sorrow, you may see beauty spots on happiness

Even if the tool of your work has fallen from your hand, there is no fear

The hand of Shams al-Din will give your feet anklets