غزل شمارهٔ 3021

Lion-heart, you have made a hundred thousand lion-hearts; you have outstripped the sun even in generosity.

Close your eyes, and have compassion once more; break your oath, if you have sworn by God.

See that these enemies are clapping their hands, since in this rage and warlike mood you have stamped your foot.

With whom is your inclination, O soul?—so that I may become his dust, so that I may become the servant of him whom you have reckoned somebody.

Body, at last stir yourself and make an effort. Effort is blessed; why are you languid?

Rise, approach the friend; set your face to the earth, saying, “Idol sweet as sugar, by what are you vexed?”

Master of the soul, Shams-i D¯ın of Tabrizi, this head of mine is of your palm tree for it was nourished by you.