1. With the cold of injustice and scattered allure,
And weak pacts together and waist,

2. He gets angry if I compare him to the full moon,
His excuse to aloofness is my excuse,

3. He makes me wait and he is the alluring king,
His eyelids are lined with magic,

4. Harsh as if his heart is made of rock,
In his cheek the water of youth flows,

5. Revealing my secret and public declaration of him,
When will I wake up from my drunkenness of passion?

6. And from his folds is my wine of torment,
The light of a face and the darkness of hair,

7. Have taken from my skin and patience,
Taking the morn and evening from my life,

8. If I complain of his harm to me,
He returns to his habit of betrayal,

9. As if I enticed him with my estrangement,
What do I have to do with the dusty nights?

10. You knew me while showing no recognition,
Sending me its arrows and being indifferent,

11. As if seeking me with a bowstring,
Why does my laughter and good news meet,

12. With a face grim and frowning?
Do you not know, O turner of my fate,

13. True and certain knowledge and reports,
That Jalal Ad-Din is my helper

14. And that he is the treasure of mankind for me!
I graze in his lush gardens,

15. My gratitude is too weak to carry his benefaction,
The generous, noble, glorious son of Bukhari,

16. The offspring of the generous, noble, and free,
The leader of the courageous and sweeping army,

17. The abundant, licit, copious,
The narrow excuse, spacious chest,

18. Reviver of generosity and killer of poverty,
Submerger with cloak and submersion in gifts,

19. He sold affluence for the sake of good mention,
Dragging the train of my glorified blackness,

20. Merits like the shining stars,
They escape all count and reckoning,

21. And manners like the breeze of flowers,
And comfort that shames the torrent of seas,

22. Watering mortals with the rain of generous palms,
Takes the place of rain in drought,

23. Shedding his frightening gloom,
His pens flow on the spears,

24. They race in the arenas of gifts,
Going with the light of polished Indian swords,

25. Severing in the zeal of enemies and swarming,
To you, O master of the people of the age,

26. I have raised with praise the daughters of my thoughts,
As precious gifts offered to one not a brother-in-law,

27. I have protected them from errors and estrangement,
Innocently coming to you from the flaws of poetry,

28. Their meters safe from imperfections,
Adorned for you in the dress of the untouched camel,

29. Like a bride brought out from her tent,
I have composed it in the form of a pearl necklace,

30. I shine in an ancient and pure lineage,
In which the honor of the noble freeman is sacrificed,

31. With a bouquet from its perfume and strewing,
As if smeared with fragrance,

32. I ask you by the judge and the odd prayer,
And the pilgrimage and the ten nights,

33. And Safa, Zamzam and the Black Stone,
Grant to Jalal Ad-Din a long life,

34. And strengthen me through him in tribulations,
O You who answers the call of the distressed!

35. Respond to my prayer and accept my vow,
Bring him happiness, O Lord, in this month,

36. A happiness that remains for eternity,
In lowly and high station,

37. No night has invented against the whiteness of dawn,
Nor did a caller call in a den,

38. With the towering summit sneering!