My heart, in desire of the face of Farrukh, Is in confusion like the hair of Farrukh.
Save the Hindu of his tress, is none, That enjoyed prosperity from the face of Farrukh.
The. black of good fortune is that which ever Is the fellow-traveller and the fellow knee-sitter of Farrukh.
Like the trembling aspen, becometh the cypress of the garden, If it see the heart-alluring stature of Farrukh.
O Saki! give wine of Arghavan hue To the memory of the eye of sorcery of Farrukh.
Bent like a bow, became my stature From grief continuous as the eyebrow of Farrukh.
The breeze of the musk of Tatar, ashamed made The perfume of the tress of ambergris of Farrukh.
If to a place, be the inclination of any one’s heart, The inclination of my heart is towards of Farrukh.
I am the slave of resolution of that one who is Like Hafez, the attendant of the black of Farrukh.
