Kiss the hand of the sage that excommunicated me,
Caress the “Muhtasib” who chained me.
Since then I have become a hermit at the door of the elderly magians,
Who through giving me a sip of wine from the both worlds I get fed up.
I don’t drink the water of “Kawthar” and avoid currying favour with Paradise,
Oh friend! Your face’s light world conqueror made me.
Appease the darvish who from the beginning's mystery,
Unveiled the evil, made me aware of destiny.
I boast the tavern elder who through his power,
Made me mortal, made me extinct and conquered me.
I am the servant at the door of the sage who woth his caress,
Made me negligent of myself and totally changed me.