1. At dawn in Mahrajaan
Take the souls of the lovers in your fist

2. And make the lyre speak eloquently
Of thirds and eights

3. With an exposition of a new style
A novelty of the times

4. Tell with the beauty of its singing
The truth of your fulfilling my wishes

5. And the beauty of your face, it is
Safe from all dangers, my wishes

6. O you whose generosity is unique
With no match in beauty

7. Why have I been ungrateful, preoccupied
With anything but thanking you, my tongue?

8. And I was made as fallen fruit
Among the horses being wagered

9. Even though I gave control
Of my bridle to you in submission

10. Honor me by letting me see
Emptiness in you of pretense