When my soul is like a mirror, I know that I cannot say, nor can I not know.
I fled from the body and avoided the spirit; I swear I do not know, I am neither from this nor from that.
O seeker, the condition of smelling is to die; do not look at me alive, for I am not like that.
Do not look at my crookedness, see this straight speech; my words are arrows, and I am like a bow.
This head like a gourd on my body, this cloak of mine; in the market of the world, to whom do I resemble, to whom do I resemble?
And then the gourd on my head is full of wine; I hold it upside down, yet I do not spill it.
And if I spill it, see the power of God; from the sea, I take jewels from that drop.
When the cloud of my eyes took the essence of that sea, this moving cloud will come to the sky of loyalty.
I will rain in the presence of Shams of Tabriz, so that lilies will grow in the shape of my tongue.