How long will you hide that laughter?

That radiant and auspicious moon?

Your face makes slaves of a hundred kings

Your laughter makes a king of a slave

Teach the red rose how to laugh

Reveal that enduring fortune

It knew itself to be bound in the sky

Until it drew one like you, an opener

The line of drunken camels has seen

They are waiting for the one who pulls

Scatter your locks and draw into that ring

The loops of two hundred captivating rings

It is the day of union, and the beloved is present

Do not wait for the length of the future

The lover is a wound, the tambourine is hard-faced

The desire of the lip is the wailing reed

Strike a few slaps on the face of the tambourine

Give breath to that thinking flute

And if the rebec raises a wail out of greed

Gladly open that generous hand

Do not fault if the ghazal remains incomplete

The mind of a bird has no fidelity