ZindeRood
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به تسلئی که دادی نگذاشت کار خود را
1

به تسلئی که دادی نگذاشت کار خود را

بتو باز می سپارم دل بیقرار خود را

In Thy hands I now deliver once again my restless heart; it will never cease from labour for the ease.

2

چه دلی که محنت او ز نفس شماری او

که بدست خود ندارد رگ روزگار خود را

Thou wouldst impart hapless heart! Whose whole affliction is the counting of the breath, having not within its power to be lord of life and death.

3

بضمیرت آرمیدم تو بجوش خود نمائی

بکناره برفکندی در آبدار خود را

In Thy thought as I was slumb’ring Thou, desirous of display, this Thy pearl of lustrous beauty from Thy breast didst cast away.

4

مه و انجم از تو دارد گله ها شنیده باشی

که بخاک تیره ما زده ئی شرار خود را

Loud complaint they laid against thee, moon and stars (didst Thou not hear?) that Thy spark Thou hast enkindled in my ashes dark and drear.

5

خلشی به سینهٔ ما ز خدنگ او غنیمت

که اگر بپایش افتد نبرد شکار خود را

In my breast His arrow pricking – there is glory, there is fame! If I cast myself before Him, He’d not seize me for His game.

Sources

Persian text source: Ganjoor