Give wine to that cup-drinking beloved

The sour-faced, sugar-piece beloved

Do not look that way, open this way

The winking, blood-thirsty glance

Your hand rubs helplessly

There is no cure for the helpless in the shoe

Make this old, all-knowing intellect bewildered and aimless

And without work

O your generosity, king of thousands of generosities

You send a spring to the rocky liver

When a two-day-old child smells your scent

He pulls his cradle towards you

He abandons the nurse and a hundred milks

O you who replace sesame oil

You are a good key for a closed door

A good lasso for a wandering heart

Your work is this, O sun

You send light to the moon and stars

Wait for him and take light like the moon

Abandon this babble and observation

Your mercy gives vertebrae to the snake

Gives a home to the biting scorpion

It reminds the forgotten work

Gives wind to the wandering mind

Every heavy idol was brought to life by his breath

What kind of breath is that of the enchanting idol?

Be silent, speech is from this world

Abandon this treacherous world