O king of our body and soul, make our teeth smile

Apply kohl to our eyes, O you who are the collyrium for the eye of the soul

O moon, ashamed of your glory, your love is lawful from our blood

When I saw you, my heart said, 'The decree has come, the decree has come'

We are your wandering ball in the curve of your polo stick

Sometimes you call it towards joy, sometimes you drive it towards calamity

Sometimes you pull it towards sleep, sometimes you pull it towards means (of livelihood)

Sometimes towards the city of eternity, sometimes towards the plain of annihilation

Sometimes it gives thanks to that Lord, sometimes it sighs and cries 'woe is me'

Sometimes it serves Layli, sometimes it is drunk and mad with God

You have made the soul manifest, made it mad and enamored

Sometimes a lover of the corner of solitude, sometimes a lover of appearances and hypocrisy

Sometimes it intends to (wear) a gold crown, sometimes it throws dust upon its head

Sometimes it makes itself a Caesar, sometimes it wears a patched robe like a beggar

A wondrous tree it is, from which sometimes an apple grows, sometimes a gourd

Sometimes poison grows, sometimes sugar, sometimes pain grows, sometimes medicine

A wondrous stream, within which sometimes you run water, sometimes blood

Sometimes ruby-colored wines, sometimes milk, and sometimes healing honey

Sometimes knowledge is thrust upon the heart, sometimes wisdom is uprooted from the heart

Sometimes it achieves excellences, sometimes calamity sweeps away all

One day it becomes Muhammad-bek, one day it becomes a leopard and a dog

Sometimes it becomes an ill-wisher, sometimes parents and relatives

Sometimes it becomes a thorn, sometimes a rose, sometimes vinegar, sometimes wine

Sometimes a drummer, sometimes a drum, until it endures the blows of the stick

Sometimes a lover of these five and six (senses), sometimes a seeker of sweet souls

Pulling this way, pulling that way, like a camel that has lost its place

Sometimes, like a lowly scorpion, he turns his face towards the pit (of hell) like Qarun (Korah)

Sometimes, like Christ with a new crop, he soars towards the heavens

Until your grace guides him and frees him from hypocrisy and duplicity

Our trickster becomes enamored, single-minded like the morning sun

Like the fish of his sea, his sea is his dwelling, his sea is his garden and homeland

His sea is his grave and shroud; he knows nothing but the sea as an epidemic

He becomes free from these colors, he enters the vat of Jesus

He sets his face towards the dye of God, until 'God does what He wills'

He is freed from shamelessness and modesty, from wandering and moving from place to place

Freed from 'go' and freed from 'come', like the stone beneath the millstone

'Indeed, We have opened your door; do not abandon your companions'

'We will join your descendants to you; this is the reward of friendship'

'Indeed, We have strengthened your side; indeed, We have forgiven your sin'

Because of what you have thanked your Lord for, and gratitude draws contentment

(Meter of the poem)

The door of expression is closed; say, 'Our silence is more appropriate for us'