| When thy face's mirrored semblance On the goblet's shine befalleth |
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| At my ogling, in amazement All the tribe of lackwits goeth |
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| Of thy love the young shoot Of amazement there cometh |
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| Cupbearer, come: our boat On th'ocean of wine cast thou |
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| The Moon thou, and I am the candle That fades when the dawn grows red |
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| For the cark of the time, whereunto Bound or confine I see not |
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| The Garden of Eternity's The privy cell of Dervishes |
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| O hoopoe of the East, To Sheba's air I send thee |
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| Renouncement, o friend, of seclusion The maid of the vine hath made |
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| My soul cometh forth and my wish, Belov'd, of thee cometh not forth |
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