A heart devoid of love is dead; infuse fresh life in it again. It is the only cure for folk who suffer from some chronic pain.

Your sea is full of calm and rest, is it repose or magic art? No sharks and storms disturb your sea, intact its coast in every part.

You are not intimate with laws that rule the spheres that spin around; the twinkling stars do not disturb the calm which in your heart is found.

The dormant spark that buried lay in my extinguished clay since long has set afire your bed of reeds, assuming form of morning song.

That man can only see in full the world of future and the past, who has the luck to be endowed with my glance so pert and fast.