My ear is waiting for your message

Soul after soul seeks a greeting from you

In my heart, the blood of longing boils

Waiting for the scent of your cup's boiling

O you of sweetness and charm

The seed of need has not been your snare

Kings have sacrificed crown and belt

For the humble cloak of your slave

From the beginning of my love, I assumed

That I would imagine your end

Chain me to the foot of a camel

I do not covet the hump of your camel

He who has drunk milk from your grace

Will surely see death as your weaning

By the truth of that tongue that reveals the unseen

That it may bring your message to my ear

By the truth of that fortune-bestowing abode

That I may see your roof from afar

If the head profits from prostrating to you

What harm is it to your universal grace?

Shams Tabriz, this distraught heart

Has bound your name to its liver