man banda-e-an rue ki didan na guzarand
man banda-e-āñ ruue ki dīdan na guzārand
dīvāna-e-zulfe ki kashīdan na guzārang
I am a slave to that visage which they do not allow me to behold,
I am a madman for those tresses which they do not permit me to draw towards myself.
az tashnagīyam sho.ala-zanāñ sīna-o-az duur
sharbat ba-numāynd-o-chashīdan na-guzārand
My chest blazes with the fire of thirst,
Yet from afar they show me the nectar, but do not let me taste it.
yārab che azābīst barīñ murġh-e-giraftār
bismil na-pasandand-o-parīdan na-guzārand
O Lord, what torment grips this bird,
That it neither desires its own slaughter, nor does it wish to take flight.
sad dīda-o-dil muntazir-e-tīr-e-tū buuda
kash bā-man-e-be-chāra rasīdan na-guzārand
Hundreds of hearts and hundreds of gazes wait for the strike of your arrow,
Yet they do not let it reach this poor wretch.
sad ḳhār-e-jafā ḳhurd ze-hijrān-e-tū 'ḳhusrav'
aah az gule az rū-e-tū chīdan na-guzārand
In your separation, Khusrau bore the pain of countless thorns of cruelty,
Alas, none permit him to pluck a single blossom from the flowers of your face.
man banda-e-an rue ki didan na guzarand
diwana-e-zulfe ki kashidan na guzarang
I am a slave to that visage which they do not allow me to behold,
I am a madman for those tresses which they do not permit me to draw towards myself.
az tashnagiyam shoala-zanan sina-o-az dur
sharbat ba-numaynd-o-chashidan na-guzarand
My chest blazes with the fire of thirst,
Yet from afar they show me the nectar, but do not let me taste it.
yarab che azabist barin murgh-e-giraftar
bismil na-pasandand-o-paridan na-guzarand
O Lord, what torment grips this bird,
That it neither desires its own slaughter, nor does it wish to take flight.
sad dida-o-dil muntazir-e-tir-e-tu buda
kash ba-man-e-be-chaara rasidan na-guzarand
Hundreds of hearts and hundreds of gazes wait for the strike of your arrow,
Yet they do not let it reach this poor wretch.
sad KHar-e-jafa KHurd ze-hijran-e-tu 'KHusraw'
aah az gule az ru-e-tu chidan na-guzarand
In your separation, Khusrau bore the pain of countless thorns of cruelty,
Alas, none permit him to pluck a single blossom from the flowers of your face.
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