When blood does not sleep, O king, how can my eye sleep, O moon?

For from my eye, a sea of blood boils from tyranny and oppression.

If I close my lips now, my soul will boil within

And if I pour water on it, it will cause the boiling to intensify.

I excuse people if they deny our love

Alas, but for the excused one (myself), when will there be fortune and splendor?

From the boiling of blood, speech came to my mouth, and that speech came to the pen

The words became like ants, all pleading towards Solomon.

O king Solomon of grace, O you from whom grace derives honor

Souls are the shells in your (sea), souls are the plants in your garden.

We have become helpless ants, and scattered from the threshing floor

Wandering in the course of the planets, you alone come to our aid.

We are slaves of the dust of your کف (palm/sole), like servants in description

We are guardians of that attribute, despite all these faults and blindness.

Remember your kindness in the past, O God, the Eternal Refuge

Towards every evil-doer, even the guilty of both worlds.

Bestow charity, O honored one, upon the heart that has seen you, O idol

How can I look at other than you, whether on earth or in the heavens?

Even the water of life, pure and clear, will catch in his throat

Whoever has drunk wine from that auspicious-faced king (Shams).

O sun, in (my) sight, dark and gloomy and fiery

For the one who saw that moon (Shams) in goodness and beauty and value.

O sweet life, bitter-tasting to the lovers drawn by separation

In separation from that sweet king, without arrogance, yet with a hundred majesties.

O soul, shorten your speech, or set this speech on its way

Set it on the path of the king of kings, towards the purity of Tabriz.

O body, like a lazy dog, do not be fallen and barking uselessly

Return from yourself and go towards the king of eternal life.

O hundred eternities, the dust of his کف (palm/sole), those hundred kings in his rank

A hundred Asafs have become his followers, Solomon is bewildered in his friendship.

And then Solomon, from that friendship, trembles from the guile of trial

From fear that that eminence of his be diminished by jealousies.

Suddenly, by fate's will, a mischievousness from the cup of honor and sovereignty

Has snatched away his nobility and made demands upon his kingdom.

When that unique king for a moment managed the affairs of his kingdom

That king arranged the foot of men (i.e., subdued) the demons and fairies.

Until, having become wise again, he saw, having become heedless of desire

(That he had) declined from those gardens, become fruitless and also without resources

He struck the sword of wrath and dominance upon the necks of demons and fairies,

Whom, by fate, they busied with the love of that head (Shams).

Quickly entered the grace of the king, the revered Shams al-Din, like the moon,

In preventing him, he said, "No, do not burn the world, O chosen one!"

When he saw the good news from the king, he brought it during a prostration,

He made Tabriz worthy, by a promise, in both these worlds.