1. Whoever enters the opium den, let him put his life in his hands before him.
And if you hear of my drinking liquor, excuse it after his life with his death.

2. Or it is said that his disposition is companionship and fun for him, do not blame him for that is of his habits.
What is his concern that misfortune has made him despondent. He does not wake from his slumber for an age.

3. If I had seen your love before what dissolved the opium and mingled with his being.
At the age of the full moon he grazes in the garden of flowers like a gazelle in its playfulness.

4. From over the cheek of fate he drags the train of his garment spread among the people while he is dead.
You see him when the breeze plays with his forelock. It picks the clusters of the branch in its motions.

5. And when he walks lost among his lovers, the destinies drip from his perils.
He intends and does whatever he wishes as if the angel of death yielded from his glances.

6. You would have seen the image of beauty in his mirror and lifted the full moon from his threshold.
Beauty, how does it mix with his being? And now how did become part of his attributes?

7. How malice if it clung to a man no trace of him remains for the onlookers except his features.
I grieve the days of youth. Blessed is the time of childhood and play in its hours.

8. Days when I do not fear time that was folding like a bosom friend over its blemishes.
It continued to turn its eyes away from me and I seized the essence of life from it in its heedlessness.

9. Until it changed and transformed as if it were the morals of the star of religion in its states.
My Master if the sinner came to him stumbled he would find nothing but forgiveness for his stumble.

10. And if estrangement came to its end with him, the response would match stopping its extent.
And if he undertook the sciences discussing them, the Discloser does not disclose its goals.

11. O you who see the sinner’s face illuminated by the traces of swallowed anger before it is too late.
If one protected by your sublime praise commits a sin, it is to him like a rose at its times.

12. No wonder the generous stumbles and rarely does the tongue of man be devoid of its slips.
So excel in your affection, for thus is man built upon his stumbles.

13. So pardon, your servant has come to you with an intercessor if you yourself do not overlook his lapses.
An excuse that appeared in the lined parchment of his poetry that casts spell on you from its compositions.

14. She devises in her musk-scented lines that came to you from my home from its breaths.
From every line a severing for the rancor as if it were the saw of life from its tools.

15. So the coward hovers in his field and returns frightened of the mines of demise.
Open for it the door of acceptance, for it will count before your eminence among his virtues.

16. You still are amiable with gentle charm in the ages like a mole on smooth skin.
The lure of love no longer spent the night in its burrows and comfort broke from its comfort.