Waylay me not with the description of the limpid water of Khizr;
From the King's cup, a draught-drinker of Kausar's fountain, am I.

O King! if to the ninth heaven (God's throne), I cause the throne of excellence to reach,
Of this majesty, the purchased slave, am I; and of this door, the wretched one.

A thousand years, draught-drinker of Thy banquet, I was:
My disposition, ardent  of temperament,-water-drinking, how may it abandon?

If, of the slave of this tale, belief be not thine:
Of perfect  speech, a proof I will bring.

If, from thee, I up-pluck my heart; and, from thee, up-lift my love,
On whom, may I cast this love; where, may I take that heart?

All in love for the King, was my covenant of Alast (day of before creation):
From life's highway to this covenant, I pass.

Since, in the King's name, the sphere framed the Pleiades,
Verse of pearl, wherefore make I not? Less than who, am I?

O King, lion-seizer! less, how becometh,   if becometh
Attainable by me, in thy shadow, the country of ease?

In the felicityof praise of thee, my verse subdued a hundred countries of the heart:
Thou mayst say that my speaking tongue is thy (cleaving) sword.

If, like the morning breeze, by a rose-bed, I passed,
Mine, was neither love for the cypress; nor desire for the cone-tree.

Thy perfume I perceived; and to the memory of thy face,
The Sakis of joy gave me one or two cups.

Not the slave's custom is intoxication with the juice of one or two grapes;
Years endured, the Pir, tavern-cherisher, am I.

With the revolution of the star and of the sky, many a strife is mine;
In this tale, be the King's justice, my ruler!

Thanks to God, that, again, in this height of court,
The sound of my! long wing-feather (of flight), the peacock of the ninth heaven heareth!

Effaced be my name from the work-shop of the lovers (of God),
If mine be other employment save love for Thee.

For the capture of my heart, the lion's whelp attacked;
Lean, if I be, or if not,-the lion's prey I am.

O Thou, the lovers of whose face (are in number) more than the atoms (in the sun-beam)!
To union with Thee, how may reach I who, less than an atom, am?

Show to me, the denier of the beauty of Thy face, who is he?
So that, with the dagger of jealousy, his eye I may bring forth.

On me, fell the shadow of the (symbolic) sun of empire:
Now, as to the (material) sun of the east, rest (independence) is mine.

Not brisk is the market of purpose of these deeds:
Neither splendour, do I boast; nor ease, do I purchase.