به داغ ناموردی سوختم

Burned by the brand of misfortune, O stormy tears My heart has grown weary of this life, O roaming death

In this school I do not know what my nonsensical riddle is That I am neither meaning, nor letter, nor beauty of a title

From such freedom — in my eyes a hundred times better Was the sound of the chains' lament in the corner of a prison

What is my sin — why does the turning world afflict me? From this beggar's bowl, what did I seek but a piece of bread?

Ba daghe na moradi sokhtam ay ashk toofane Ba tang amad dilam zein zindagi ay marg jawlane

Dar ein maktam namedanam che ramze mohmenam yarab Ke ne mane shodam, ne naama o ne zeebe onwane

Az ein azadagi behtar bowad sad rah ba chashme man Sadaye sheyone zanjeer o qayde konje zenadne

Gonaham chist, gardoonam chera azorda medarad Azein kasa gada degar chi jastam joz labe nane