The month of Day passed and Bahman too, come for the new spring has arrived. The earth became green and lush, the time of the tulip field has come.
Look at the trees, like drunkards, all dizzy and nodding. The breeze recited a spell that made the garden restless.
The jasmine told the morning glory to look at its winding form. The blossom told the meadow that the grace of the Creator has arrived.
The violet bowed down, like the hyacinth in humility. The narcissus winked, for the time of reflection has come.
What did that swaying willow say, that it became light-headed from intoxication? What did that graceful cypress see, that it went and returned steadfast?
The painters took up their brushes, my soul is intoxicated by their strokes. Their beautiful depictions became the beauty of the branches.
Thousands of sweet birds perched on the pulpit, singing praise and thanks, for the time of spreading has come.
When the bird of the soul says "Ya Hu," the dove responds "Coo Coo." It says, "Why didn't you take a scent, your share of waiting has come."
The flowers were commanded to show their hearts. It is not right to hide the heart when the beloved of the cave has appeared.
The rose told the nightingale to look towards the green lily, for though it has a hundred tongues, it is patient and a keeper of secrets.
The nightingale replied, "Turn to the revelation of my secret, for this love I have is like you, without refuge."
The plane tree approached the vine, saying, "O worshipper, rise." The vine replied, "This prostration came to me involuntarily."
I am the bearer of that potion that strikes the intoxicated. My inside is like fire, your outside is like the plane tree.
The auspicious saffron appeared, a sign of lovers on the face. It bestowed upon it, and the rose said, "Oh, how miserable this poor one has become."
This tale of his reached the laughing ruby apple. It told the rose, "He does not know that the beloved is patient."
When the apple made this claim, "I have good thoughts of the Lord," for testing, stoning came from every side.
If someone throws a stone at it, if it is truthful, it laughs. Why wouldn't the sweet one laugh, when a good offering from Khosrow has come?
The stone-throwing of the beauties is for reading. The cruelty of friends among themselves is not for separation.
If Zuleikha tore her garment at that moment for Joseph, know it was for gathering and play, for the revealer of secrets has come.
It eats the stone and does not fall, for I am joyfully hanging. This honor of hanging came to me like Mansur.
For I am Mansur, hanging from the branch of the tree of mercy. Far from the lips of the ugly ones, such kisses and embraces have come to me.
Oh, the seal is on the kiss, hide the heart like a samosa. Hide it within the chest, a moment that has come countless times.