|Through many a stage the crescent goes and then at last full moon it grows:|
Perfection no one can attain, save by dint of strife and strain.
|The bud that gets no share of light from the sun that shines so bright,|
And opens through its inner urge is bereft of life’s full surge.
|If your gaze of sins be free, then chaste and pure your heart shall be,|
For God the Mighty has decreed that heart shall follow and gaze shall lead.
|The tulip red with heart afire in avenue could not thrive and spire,|
As this world of corn and wheat for tulip wild could not be meet.
|Great wars by Aibak and Ghauri fought by the world are all forgot;|
But the lays of Khusrau still our hearts with joy and pleasure fill.
Translated by: Syed Akbar Ali Shah