1. My soul is the ransom of Muhammad and his protection,
And I have lied that in the two worlds there is his ransom,

2. You claimed that the gazelle narrates its eyelash,
And the wrist is a branch in which its water flowed,

3. I am silent so where is its light, brilliance,
Its perfection, intelligence, and shyness?

4. The names of sailor and guide do not avail
For other than him, for they are his names,

5. The lover has shed the garment of stinginess,
So his shirt is long sighing and his cloak is illness,

6. If it were said "Ask and you will be given your wishes,"
My wish would be that his Master saw his crying,

7. Why, O friends, do you do this to his heart
What his enemies do not do to him?

8. A rain of tears, my cheek is its land,
Until morning, and my eyelids are its sky.