I closed my eyes to creation when I beheld his beauty, I became 
intoxicated with his beauty and bestowed my soul. 
For the sake of Solomon?s seal I became wax in all my body, 
and in order to become illumined I rubbed my wax. 
I saw his opinion and cast away my own twisted opinion; I 
became his reed pipe and likewise lamented on his lip. 
He was in my hand, and blindly I groped for him with my 
hand; I was in his hand, and yet I inquired of those who were 
misinformed. 
I must have been either a simpleton or drunk or mad that 
fearfully I was stealing from my own gold. 
Like a thief I crept through a crack in the wall into my own 
vine, like a thief I gathered jasmine from my own garden. 
Enough, do not twist my secret upon your fingertips, for I have 
twisted off out of your twisted fist. 
Shams-e Tabriz, from whom comes the light of moon and 
stars?though I am grieving with sorrow for him, I am like the 
crescent of the festival.