The diamond of the city is the moon,
The faces of the pretty ones the sun,
The mirrors of the buildings stars, they shine
So people can indulge in joy and fun.

He is a soul who doesn't know the world,
    Yet sees with his own two eyes its rules,
While his body is by his sadness curled,
    Counting his tears, who look like dewy jewels.
The crazy wind goes through his glossy hair,
    And its sword does almost strike his pale throat,
He's in a twisted state beyond compare,
    In his shaking hands the fine poems he wrote.
Viewing the Mystic's path, sometimes the frame
    Of life appears, yet all it secrets are
Still far away from him, he knows each name
    Of saint and poet, but still is far, too far.
Will the meaning of his life come true?
That brooding poet, he sometimes has a clue.

When haunted by memories of the pasts,
Laying in bed, trying to sleep and dream
About the things who in the end will last,
I am hopeless, like nights who yearn to gleam.
I remember the park, the bench, the kiss,
The slow-passed music, and a warm embrace,
Things who I only at nighttime do miss,
And never think about throughout my days.
It is not love, that love of blissful youth,
The touches of her warmth, a stream of joy,
Who when the hands did touch always did sooth,
Or that I was an energetic boy;
It is the sleeping ignorance in me
That I do miss, who set me always free.

هر موج نگاه و خنده ها زیبا است
از یار سخن لب شفا زیبا است
ای دوست چه عجب که بیوفا زیبا است
این عشق و حال مبتلا زیبا است

زلف سیاه زنجیر جنون شد
دل حیرت زده من مجنون شد

Night and day I see your face at stores;
A famous one, seen in different shapes,
That does express life, which each fan adores,
Adventures with downfalls and escapes.
Like stars of olden days, in black and white,
In every scene you shine with emotions,
Each smile, each tear a different sight,
Praised for many philosophical notions.
Oh, and my teenage years were filled with you,
Right and left I would see you for a while,
Till I would suddenly find someone new,
Making me feel safe with a lonely smile.
Amongst the loved ones you were then, O star,
Nonstop, while I was always apart so far.

My autumn-hair grows grey, my eyes are tired,
The dawn is far away from me. I'm not the same,
And not the one who I sometime desired;
I just can only remember my name.
Time does pass by so quickly, and I try
To grasp the moments with my writing mind,
But still, most things of fleeting life pass by
As if it's nothing, not mend to be found.
And so, if past and future is unknown,
I'll focus on the moment of the present:
A bed, fresh air, the morning-sun now shown,
And lulled to sleep by every flower scent.
This is the ideal life I'm always seeking;
"Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."