هر که دید او مر ترا از دور گفت ** کو در آن صحرا چو لاله تر شکفت

هر که دید او مر ترا از دور گفت ** کو در آن صحرا چو لاله تر شکفت 3550

Whoever sees you from afar says, “He blooms like a fresh anemone (he is cheerful and happy) in that desert”;

او نداند که تو همچون ظالمان ** از برون در گلشنی جان در فغان

He does not know that you, like the wicked, are outwardly in the rose-garden, (while) your soul is in lamentation.

خواب تو آن کفش بیرون کردنست ** که زمانی جانت آزاد از تنست

Your sleep is to put those shoes off, for (then) your soul is free from the body for a while.

اولیا را خواب ملکست ای فلان ** همچو آن اصحاب کهف اندر جهان

To the saints, O reader, sleep is a kingdom, as (it was to) the Men of the Cave in this world.

خواب می‌بینند و آنجا خواب نه ** در عدم در می‌روند و باب نه

They (sleep and) dream, and no (physical) sleep is there; they go into nonexistence, and no (material) door (is there).

خانه‌ی تنگ و درون جان چنگ‌لوک ** کرد ویران تا کند قصر ملوک 3555

“(The body is) a narrow house, and the soul within is cramped: He (God) ruined it in order that He might make a royal palace.

چنگ‌لوکم چون جنین اندر رحم ** نه‌مهه گشتم شد این نقلان مهم

I am cramped like the embryo in the womb: I have become nine months old: this migration has become urgent.

گر نباشد درد زه بر مادرم ** من درین زندان میان آذرم

Unless the throes of childbirth overtake my mother, (what should I do?): in this prison I am amidst the fire.

مادر طبعم ز درد مرگ خویش ** می‌کند ره تا رهد بره ز میش

My mother, namely, my nature (natural body), in consequence of its death-throes, is giving birth (to the spirit), to the end that the lamb (the spirit) may be released from the ewe,

تا چرد آن بره در صحرای سبز ** هین رحم بگشا که گشت این بره گبز

So that the lamb may graze in the green fields. Come, open thy womb, for this lamb has grown big.”