Who has taught you this glancing with shyness? Who has taught you the riddle of Love’s initiation?

Love comes out of each grace of yours. Wit is dripping from the blue eyes of yours.

You see him sometimes, you shy away sometimes. Rise up sometimes, lie down and sleep sometimes.

Is your eye bewildered like the mirror? Are you recognized by the glow of knowledge?

You strike him with wrists, this is a strange playfulness! Is it aversion or anger? Or a way of Love it is?

You will be removed from the lap if you will be naughty. You will be beaten if the flower on the breast will fall.

What are you longing for? What are you seeking? Ah! Are you also in Love with the same thing?

The feeling for Beauty is not special to Man: Like the heart it is present in everything.

In the flask of time Love is like the pure wine. Love is the sun’s spirit, and the blood in moon’s veins.

Its pain is concealed in every speck’s core; this is the light which is reflected in everything.

It causes happiness somewhere, and sorrow somewhere; it is pearl somewhere, tear somewhere, dew somewhere