I gave you petals as presents,
But you just saw a broken rose.
I didn't knew that cold distance
Was with you so near and close.

While walking in the city throughout days,
I'm only daydreaming about tonight,
And thinking about that luminous face
Who I so eagerly want to speak and write
When the bright sunlight gets concealed,
When the night comes out the day,
When city lights become revealed
And when thoughts that she's distant go away.
After living my life in the daytime,
My beloveds face is finally seen!
In the late hours of the dim nighttime,
On my gleaming and lovely computer screen.
I know that it is a digital love,
But surely, it is a beautiful love.

In September, I've reached my grounds,
And dug up the jewels and gems
Who were all for the sake of Love,
And were all disguised as poems.

In September, I've met a soul,
Who is far away from my sigh,
Who showed myself with smiles and wits
And refrained me from being shy.

But even after *September,
I still do remember
Every lesson I have learned there,
While holding them with grateful care.

All her actions
Do jump to life,
Like chaos that
Creates the stars.

In an impulse
She quickly speaks!
From right to left,
From left to right.

And then lights up
The gray sections
Of this dark, dull
And dusty place.

And there she goes
With her star-speech! (again!)
And gone away
Is the subject! (again!)

Feelings were always in my mind,
Only now can I write them down
Because ignorance had me blind,
Feelings and words were left to drown.
But now I know the names of birds,
Places, feelings, poems and more,
What happens and what had occurred,
Who're all locked up in my mind's core.
Now the inspiration strikes me
And picks the words from the surface
Who match with my soul's feelings rightly
And pour the words almost flawless.
I'm in to write at all the times,
To just chant smoothly with my tongue,
Stringing words together with rhymes
And compose another nice song.
The worry that haunts me the most,
Is that I'll write from night 'till dawn,
So that there is no paper left
To express and to compose on!
I never knew that I could draw,
These verses, these poems at all,
But now I can't leave my pen still
And never let her inked lips fall!

And when I am finally done,
When the stained lips of my pen lift,
And rest down like the drowning sun,
I thank Gracious God for this Gift.

The preachers rant I do practice disgrace of class,
The enjoyers mock I walk on soft ways of class.

Jewels here and flowers there in this garden,
Makes it difficult to maintain a gaze of class.

Hearts, who're illuminated by faith (strong and weak) ,
Compared to wealth: dust is each golden-place of class.

There is so much talking contained with pride and lies,
That just the eloquence of silence stays of class.

Ruyâ'î is at peace, but is also saddened,
That sorrow-nights arrive after sweet days of class.

To seek for knowledge as far as China,
The Caliph sent four scholars to Beijing.
When the four men returned back to Mecca,
Both had an other way of narrating:
One said: 'It was filled with pretty women!
I did lower my gaze not to get loose! '
Only complaints came from one gentlemen:
'By God! In the mosque thieves did steal my shoes! '
Another man said: 'It was filled with food!
It was hard to leave the dinner table! '
The last man said: 'It was beyond good;
It was filled with saints and righteous people.'
  Where you go to, wherever that may be,
  Whatever you desire, that you'll see.