The Sabaa wind arrives;
and in deep resonance,
the flower passionately rips open its garments,
thrusting itself from itself.
The Way of Truth,
learn from the clarity of water,
Learn freedom from the spreading grass.
Pay close attention to the artistry of the Sabaa wind,
that wafts in pollen from afar,
And ripples the beautiful tresses of the fields of hyacinth flowers.
From the privacy of the harem,
the virgin bud slips out,
revealing herself under the morning star,
branding your heart and your faith with beauty.
And frenzied bulbul flies madly out of the House of Sadness
to unite with the flowers;
its love-crazed cry like a thousand-trumpet blast.