That harem doors veil jewels I'm aware tonight,
But still I'll decide not to visit there tonight.

The nightingale lost his way in the rose garden,
A red mist descended upon the blue air tonight.

I don't approach it neither do I forget it,
Like a lonely widow's ring of despair, tonight.

Desire would go like cinnamon mist at dawn,
To take a sip from it I will not care tonight.

A candle's flame can be turned off by sorrow's breeze,
Yet that breeze gives incense a source to flare tonight.

Two glances are to be considered forbidden,
So I'll delay one glance into a stare tonight.

O Gihon, be as lucid in dreams as in verse,
And write a dream and avoid a nightmare tonight!

I have read your words, O Poet of Pain,
Their musicality is bliss to ears,
A taste of sweets to mind when each one hears
About the lonely stars, about the rain.
The urn, the nightingale have stayed the same,
Since the moment they were written down, fears
Of loss and of decay (because of years)
Are not to be found – nothing gone to vain.

Your life and sacred love is stated clearly,
For beauty and the truth, who I can see
Although, like springs, it's repeated and old.
O Bard of Bright Letters! I thank you dearly,
That you have written lines of poetry
To us and yourself; their worth 's more than gold.

De eerste plek van mijn suikerfeestgebed!
Je was al oud, maar nooit een stuk antiek,
Je had ook nooit een mooie minaret,
Maar toch een moskee, vanbinnen klassiek.

Nu loop ik langs jou stenen, met gedachten
Die steeds proberen te herinneren
*** het nou was; wat mensen hier brachten,
Wat was het wat ik deed al die keren?

O gebouw van oudsher, nu ben je onbekend,
Een oude plaats alleen van nostalgie,
Door nieuwelingen word je niet gekend,
En nu een stukje in de poëzie.

Eerst kleine handjes, kleine gebeden,
Nu een jongeman, kijkend naar het verleden.

O beauty,
O sun!
Please, don't look at my appearance,
But look inside my soul and heart,
For there is more to see
Here than outside.

O beauty,
O moon!
How can I see and find
The inside of your skin if distance
Is the main chain who keeps me
Away from you?

O beauty,
O star!
I would like to love your grace,
But stars are far away,
Thus meeting is not an option
For me, for you.

Not falling for you – that was my vow,
Now in desires' chains, I did it anyhow.

Even if I will become blind, my friend,
Seeing myself in greed, I'll not allow.

Even in the winter and the autumn,
Rose, out of humbleness to you I bow.

Upon your cheek I see a glowing candle,
I'm a fire since I have seen your brow.

Mâhî, you used to be a child of simplicity,
But a prince of riddles and puzzles now.

A melancholic gaze
Upon my walks I have, born out of wanderlust,
Having thoughts and feelings 'bout dust
And Byron's ways,

The wind is in my raven hair,
    A poet is my heart,
Between hope and despair
I classify my written art.

Many women and wine out of still skulls
I am a stranger to,
But not to skills
Of natures who're romantic as a hue.

The feelings who I had before,
Are here no longer anymore.
Your eyes, your lips, your face and hair,
I like, but now I don’t adore.