داد جاروبی به دستم آن نگار
That Beautiful One handed me a broom
گفت کز دریا برانگیزان غبار
And said : sweep the dust off the sea
باز آن جاروب را ز آتش بسوخت
And then He took the broom and burnt it
گفت کز آتش تو جاروبی برآر
He said raise a broom from the fire
کردم از حیرت سجودی پیش او
In awe I fell in prostration before Him
گفت بیساجد سجودی خوش بیار
He said lets see you make a good prostration ;
Without the prostrator
آه بیساجد سجودی چون بود
I sighed : with no prostrator how can
There be a prostration?!
گفت بیچون باشد و بیخارخار
He said be without "how"
And a thornless thorn
گردنک را پیش کردم گفتمش
Showing him my neck I addressed him
ساجدی را سر ببر از ذوالفقار
Then take this prostrators head off with Zolfaghar [the famous divine warrior's sword of Ali]
تیغ تا او بیش زد سر بیش شد
The more he used His sword the more heads came
تا برست از گردنم سر صد هزار
Until a hundred thousand heads sprang from my neck
من چراغ و هر سرم همچون فتیل
I the Light and each head like a wick
هر طرف اندر گرفته از شرار
Emanating light in all directions
شمعها میورشد از سرهای من
The candles of my many heads
شرق تا مغرب گرفته از قطار
Covered the horizon from east to west
شرق و مغرب چیست اندر لامکان
In the Transcendent, that place of Noplace, east and west are meaningless
گلخنی تاریک و حمامی به کار
A dark abandoned flower house and a bustling public bathhouse
ای مزاجت سرد کو تاسه دلت
اندر این گرمابه تا کی این قرار
how long are you resting in this bathhouse?
برشو از گرمابه و گلخن مرو
Get up and leave the bathhouse and venture not to the flowerhouse
جامه کن دربنگر آن نقش و نگار
Put on your clothes and behold the designs and patterns
تا ببینی نقشهای دلرب
Until you can see the heart warming and enticing patterns
تا ببینی رنگهای لاله زار
Until you can behold the colors of a flower field
چون بدیدی سوی روزن درنگر
When you have beheld this, look to the nook
کان نگار از عکس روزن شد نگار
For the Beautiful One is made beautiful through the picture in the nook
شش جهت حمام و روزن لامکان
The six directions are the bathhouse and the nook is the Transcendent, that Place of Noplace
بر سر روزن جمال شهریار
At the nook you will behold the Face of the King
خاک و آب از عکس او رنگین شده
Earth and water gain color from His reflection
جان بباریده به ترک و زنگبار
Giving life to people of all races and places
روز رفت و قصهام کوته نشد
The day went by and yet my stories have not ended
ای شب و روز از حدیثش شرمسار
Stories of the Beloved cannot be complete even if day and night try to recount its tale
شاه شمس الدین تبریزی مرا
King Shams u ddin Tabrizi has me
مست میدارد خمار اندر خمار
Drunk in drunkenness and beyond
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