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You are neither for the earth nor for the heaven: The world is for you, and not you for the world.

The sparks Reason and Heart are shed of the flame of Love: That one to burn the straw, this one for burning the field of reeds.

This garden is for painful strains: Neither for enjoying the roses nor for making a nest.

How long, while your ship remains in Ravi, Nile and Euphrates? —When it is meant for the Ocean, which knows no bounds.

Once who were beacons to the brightest stars, Have long been awaiting a guide to show them the way now.

High ambition, winsome speech, a passionate soul— This is all the luggage for a leader of the Caravan.

It was a plain and simple truth but the imagination of the Persian mind Has confounded it with the poetic license.

I am saving a song for the Placeless Realm— A song that could shake even the trusty Gabriel.