من از این هوس چنانم که ز خود خبر ندارم
In my head, I have such a whim, that I haven't patience for humankind, I'm so excited from this whim that I'm not aware from myself.
دو هزار ملک بخشد شه عشق هر زمانی
من از او به جز جمالش طمعی دگر ندارم
Lord of the love, every moment, will give thousands of lands, but, I wish, him, only, to see the beauty!
سحری ببرد عشقش دل خسته را به جایی
که ز روز و شب گذشتم خبر از سحر ندارم
In a dawn, his love, taked my bleedy heart, to a place, that there was no day nor night, so I'm not aware from changing of the time.
سفری فتاد جان را به ولایت معانی
که سپهر و ماه گوید که چنین سفر ندارم
My vitae, voyaged to the city of virtuality, that caelis and luna, hadn't such a voyage.
ز فراق جان من گر ز دو دیده در فشاند
تو گمان مبر که از وی دل پر گهر ندارم
Because of distance, if my entity, shed pearls from oeils, yet my heart is full of gem, by his love!
بنمودمی نشانی ز جمال او ولیکن
دو جهان به هم برآید سر شور و شر ندارم
I've shown a sign from his beauty, and both world, taked in chaos but I havn't intention for it.
تبریز! عهد کردم که چو شمس دین بیاید
بنهم به شکر این سر که سر دگر ندارم
Thou, city of Tabriz! I promise when "Shams", came from thee, I prostrate, to thank, because I haven't another wish.
...
Song: Dastagh-e Homayoon
Homayoon, Chakavak, Bidad, Rajeh, Signing to Oshaq, Rajeh, Forood
My heart is a shining fire,
caused, the sun looked dark
every morning, will rise from thy brows
to worship thou, Goddess of mine.
My heart is a high moon, flowing like water.
It's a fiery river,
leading the light, from my chest, over the mountains
to set on fire, the nightly bazaar of dark sleep.
My heart is a speaking magic lantern
drunken from thy look,
taken the light from thy face,
made words, as light as thy beauty.
Nobody knows its words, other than thou, my shining still and, no instrument played its melody other than thy eyes.
My heart is a sleepless magus,
amazed from this secrets,
surrounded thy figure
yet th'art appear, standing, praising thyself stature.
I see,
I sit,
I wonder
I prostrate,
I worship thee, in my adytum.
Th'art, that spring of sun
boiling from the earth, to the roof of the caelis,
raised up the demur.
Thou, delicate and lovely, forever,
have a new religion, to worship thyself,
let me, to burst into flame, my fiery love, by thy sweet lips.
در کنار هم قدم می زنیم٬
چشم من
فراتر از تو
خیابان را می کاود٬
و دل تو
پشت سر من٬
کوچه های خاطراتت را.
پس چرا نمی رسیم؟