ور دهان یابم چنین و صد چنین ** تنگ آید در فغان این حنین 1885
And if I should get a mouth like this and a hundred times as (broad as) this, it would be too narrow for (utterance of) this longing's distressful cry.
این قدر گر هم نگویم ای سند ** شیشه‌ی دل از ضعیفی بشکند
(Yet), if I should not utter even this (little) amount, O trusted (friend), the phial, (which is) my heart, would burst from weakness (inability to contain its emotion).
Since I have seen my heart's phial (to be) fragile, I have rent many a mantle in order to allay (my pain).
من سر هر ماه سه روز ای صنم ** بی‌گمان باید که دیوانه شوم
Beyond doubt, O worshipful one, I must become mad for three days at the beginning of every month.
هین که امروز اول سه روزه است ** روز پیروزست نه پیروزه است
Hark, to-day is the first of the triduum: ’tis the day of triumph (pírúz), not (the day of) the turquoise (pírúza).
هر دلی که اندر غم شه می‌بود ** دم به دم او را سر مه می‌بود 1890
Every heart that is in love with the King, for it (for that heart) ’tis always the beginning of the month.
قصه‌ی محمود و اوصاف ایاز ** چون شدم دیوانه رفت اکنون ز ساز
Since I have become mad, the story of Mahmúd and the description of Ayáz are now out of order.
بیان آنک آنچ بیان کرده می‌شود صورت قصه است وانگه آن صورتیست کی در خورد این صورت گیرانست و درخورد آینه‌ی تصویر ایشان و از قدوسیتی کی حقیقت این قصه راست نطق را ازین تنزیل شرم می‌آید و از خجالت سر و ریش و قلم گم می‌کند و العاقل یکفیه الاشاره
Explaining that what is related (here) is (only) the outward form of the Story, and that it is a form befitting these (hearers) who apprehend (no more than) the external form and suitable to the mirror of their imagination, whereas the real essence of the Story is so transcendent that speech is ashamed to reveal it, and from (being overcome with) confusion (the writer) loses head, beard, and pen. And a hint is enough for the wise.
زانک پیلم دید هندستان به خواب ** از خراج اومید بر ده شد خراب
Forasmuch as my elephant has dreamed of Hindustán, abandon hope of (receiving) the tax: the village is ruined.
کیف یاتی النظم لی والقافیه ** بعد ما ضاعت اصول العافیه
How should poesy and rhyme come to me after the foundations of sanity are destroyed?
ما جنون واحد لی فی الشجون ** بل جنون فی جنون فی جنون
’Tis not (merely) one madness I have amidst the sorrows of love; nay, but madness on madness on madness.