This topic hath no end, and (meanwhile) the fakir has been sorely wounded by the blows of penury.
این سخن پایان ندارد وآن فقیر ** گشته است از زخم درویشی عقیر
Story of the treasure-scroll (in which it was written), “Beside a certain domed building turn your face towards the qibla (Mecca) and put an arrow to the bow and shoot: the treasure is (buried) at the spot where it falls.”
قصهی آن گنجنامه کی پهلوی قبهای روی به قبله کن و تیر در کمان نه بینداز آنجا کی افتد گنجست
One night he dreamed—but where was sleep? The vision without sleep is familiar to the Súfí—
دید در خواب او شبی و خواب کو ** واقعهی بیخواب صوفیراست خو
(That) a heavenly voice said to him, “O you who have seen trouble, search among the (loose) leaves of handwriting sold (as models) by stationers for a certain scroll.
هاتفی گفتش کای دیده تعب ** رقعهای در مشق وراقان طلب
Unobserved by the stationer who is your neighbour, bring your hand into touch with his papers.1910
خفیه زان وراق کت همسایه است ** سوی کاغذپارههاش آور تو دست
It is a scroll of such a shape and such a colour: then (as soon as possible) read it in privacy, O sorrowful one.
رقعهای شکلش چنین رنگش چنین ** بس بخوان آن را به خلوت ای حزین
When you steal it from the stationer, my lad, then go out of the crowd and the noise and turmoil,
چون بدزدی آن ز وراق ای پسر ** پس برون رو ز انبهی و شور و شر