Tell my beloved, O Morning Breeze;
After you defy waves of the seven seas:
That I am wounded by blow of love
Still, I wish her every kind of ease.
Ask why beloveds become so ruthless,
Once throne of hearts they would fully seize.
Once we are fallen to pit of their love,
They neither kill us; nor would us release.
It seems they enjoy our deep torments
Especially when, tears they squeeze.
Once they are supreme in the realm of love,
It becomes so hard their hearts to please.
Once they have jailed us in the deepest well,
Behind high mountains, they throw the keys.
Everyone shall reap yeild of what has sown,
One who has labored shall claim the fees.
Sweetest honey if you desire,
You should withstand stinging of bees.
Chehree has to know without heat of love
Every beating heart shortly shall freeze.
