The king said to him, “Go: ’tis for thee to command; but make him happy, for he is my eulogist.”
گفت او را و دو صد اومیدلیس ** تو به من بگذار این بر من نویس
He (the vizier) said, “Leave him and two hundred (other) lickers-up of hope to me, and write this (down) against me.”
پس فکندش صاحب اندر انتظار ** شد زمستان و دی و آمد بهار
Then the minister threw him into (the pains of) expectation: winter and December passed and spring came.
شاعر اندر انتظارش پیر شد ** پس زبون این غم و تدبیر شد
In expectation of it (the reward) the poet grew old; then he was crushed by this anxiety and making shift to provide (the means of livelihood),
گفت اگر زر نه که دشنامم دهی ** تا رهد جانم ترا باشم رهی
And said (to the vizier), “If there is no gold (for me), please give me abuse, so that my soul may be delivered (from expectation) (and that) I may be thy (devoted) slave.