هر دو گون حسن لطیف مرتضی ** شاهد احبال و حشر ما مضی

Both (these) kinds of subtle and delectable beauty are witnesses to (spiritual) pregnancies and growing big (with child) in the past,

هم‌چو یخ کاندر تموز مستجد ** هر دم افسانه‌ی زمستان می‌کند

Like ice that in the brilliant (month of) Tamúz is ever telling the story of winter

ذکر آن اریاح سرد و زمهریر ** اندر آن ازمان و ایام عسیر 1820

And recalling the cold winds and intense frost in those hard days and times;

هم‌چو آن میوه که در وقت شتا ** می‌کند افسانه‌ی لطف خدا

(Or) like fruit that in winter-time tells the story of God's lovingkindness

قصه‌ی دور تبسمهای شمس ** وآن عروسان چمن را لمس و طمس

And the tale of the season when the sun was smiling and embracing the brides of the orchard. [And the tale of the season when the sun was (enjoying) touching and copulating (with) the brides of the orchard.]

حال رفت و ماند جزوت یادگار ** یا ازو واپرس یا خود یاد آر

The ecstasy is gone but thy (every) part remains as a souvenir: either inquire of it, or thyself recall (the ecstasy) to mind.

چون فرو گیرد غمت گر چستیی ** زان دم نومید کن وا جستیی

When grief takes possession of thee, if thou art a fit (alert and capable) person thou wouldst question that moment of despair

گفتییش ای غصه‌ی منکر به حال ** راتبه‌ی انعامها را زان کمال 1825

And wouldst say to it, “O Sorrow that deniest implicitly the allowance of favours (bestowed upon thee) by that Perfection,

گر بهر دم نت بهار و خرمیست ** هم‌چو چاش گل تنت انبار چیست

If Spring and (its) fresh gladness are not always thine, (then) of what is thy body, (which is) like a heap of roses, the storehouse?

چاش گل تن فکر تو هم‌چون گلاب ** منکر گل شد گلاب اینت عجاب

Thy body is a heap of roses, thy thought is like rose-water; the rose-water denies the rose: lo, here is a marvel!”