| Our Book, for this many a year, In pawn for the vinejuice red is |
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| Glad tidings! Behold, salvation On Dhou Selém hath lit |
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| The Curve of thy tress Of faith and unfaith the snare is |
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| Fragrance of the musk of Tart'ry On the East wind, lo! there cometh |
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| Soufi, come see; For the glass of the cup is bright |
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| The Case of the heart a-bleed who shall speak again? |
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| A Heart, that is secret-discovering And Jemshid's cup of might hath |
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| Welcome, messenger of gladness! Prithee, tidings tell of the Friend |
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| In thy heart of yore, Beloved, More concern for lovers' care was |
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| Lacking thee, o swaying cypress, Lo! with rose and mead what do I? |
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