I would turn to reason, but all reason has left me. I would turn to sense, but all sense has left me.

I am reduced to naught, for that Beauteous Countenance, Spellbound and entranced has left me.

Senseless I wander about in bewilderment, For in Love's path both faith and infidelity have left me.

To her curl's coil I bequeathed my heart and soul, O how in this entanglement, both heart and soul have left me.

I exchanged my will for the will of that Beauty, O how in this exchange, all comforts and joy have left me.

O Beloved, you are the physician of this broken heart, How is it that in a pool of blood you have left me.

In Love's religion it is not customary to moan and complain, But what do rivals know in what ruin you have left me.

At the gambling house of her love I spent my being, Ah, how in this lane all the coin of life has left me.

"Sháhid, open your eyes, for the hour of union is at hand," But alas, too late, for now the breath of life has left me.