گریۂ ما بی اثر نالۂ ما نارسا ست

گریۂ ما بے اثر نالہ ما نارساستحاصل این سوز و ساز یک دل خونین نواست

Our wailing is without effect, and fruitless are our cries. The gain from all this ardency: A heart whose songs are steeped in blood.

در طلبش دل تپید، دیر و حرم آفریدما بہ تمنای او، او بہ تمنای ماست

In fervent quest of Him the heart created temple and Harem. We long for Him: He watches us with unconcern.

پردگیان بی حجاب، من بہ خودی در شدمعشق غیورم نگر میل تماشا کراست

The veiled ones have unveiled themselves, while I have gone into my self’s retreat. Look at my self-respecting love. Who is fond of display – say, they or I?

مطرب میخانہ دوش نکتۂ دلکش سرودبادہ چشیدن خطاست بادہ کشیدن رواست

The singer at the tavern made a subtle point last night. He said: ‘The tasting of wine is a sin; the drinking of it none.’

زندگی رہروان در تگ و تاز است و بسقافلۂ موج را جادہ و منزلی کجاست

Wayfarers’ life consists in hurrying from place to place. The caravan of waves has no road and no goal.

شعلۂ در گیر زد بر خس و خاشاک منمرشد رومی کہ گفت "منزل ما کبریاست"

‘Our goal is God.’ This saying of the guide of Rum was like a flame flung at the straw that is my self.