1. The morning breeze shook him, stirred by yearning,
And he who once played with love grew serious.

2. Reproach him not, for passion left him nothing,
No hearing to heed the blamer’s grievances,

3. No will to resist love’s mastery, submitting
To love, for love had gained the upper hand.

4. He loves the lightning flashes of the wine-pourer,
Though when she smiles, he melts and weeps.

5. O heart enamored with Hatim, you love one
Who played you false, O oft weeping eyes!

6. I seek refuge for a heart where love
Of the Amir has found a glowing home,

7. Lest it should look on any but the one it loves.
When the sword leaves its sheath, it hides its blade.

8. If he who brings the night should swear
An oath, and in the Amir's name invoke the moon,

9. At his command the sun would cease to set.
And if he brought his sword down upon India,

10. The enemies' heads would fall though no blow struck.
If what amused him were poured for the bitter aloes,

11. It would become a sweet draught.
If his virtues were recited over the dead,

12. God would restore the life that had left them.
If you mixed the water of his noble nature,

13. You would gain a potion no poison could taint.
He comes from noble fathers, noble grandfathers,

14. Ancestry unmarred by any false pedigree.
He aspires to the highest ranks, and high ranks

15. Hasten to his court with utmost propriety.
They teach the world its manners, and when provoked

16. Show a clemency beyond manners or breeding.
If they were nicknamed the bay tree’s branches, how apt,

17. As men’s heads bow to them in the fray like fruit.
Munificent he, liberality's brother,

18. Noble his father, and bounty his mother.
Since I attached myself to serving him

19. Ambition has filled me, and rank seems trivial.
If I were to fling the train of my robe to the sky,