The pain of Shams al-Din was the capital of our cure

The unorganized state of his love was our organization

That soul-increasing, fortune-making, unparalleled thought

Is both the leader of the assembly and the rotating cupbearer of ours

In his soul-bestowing face, the bestowing of the soul at every moment

Has become in the intoxication of the soul both easy and effortless for us

Hundreds of thousands like us become astonished at his beauty

That in that place our astonished soul and heart become lost

Happily, happily, it dives into his boundless sea

Until the eternities of eternity, this is our beginning and end

Thanks to God that all the springs of life

Are dim before the grace of our spring of life

The soul and heart are ashamed to prostrate consciously

Before the intoxicated, languid eyes of our beautiful beloved

Love seizes even this reason from sorrow, the demon

Suddenly seizes the throat of our Adam-like reason

Then brings out a bloody sting from whose tip blood drips

Then from the soul of reason opens the vein of our lions

Pours his blood into the mouth of reason perpetually

So that it may free the spirit from our trap and trickery

So that it may be worthy of serving the master of souls, Shams al-Din

That Qubad and Sanjar and Alexander and Khaqan of ours

So that from the dust of his feet, the two eyes of the head may open to the unseen

So that it may see the state of the first and last of us

Thanks to that one who turns his face towards the revered Tabriz

From whose ground grows the narcissus and sweet basil of ours