ز دستم بر نمی‌خیزد

It is beyond me to sit a single moment without you I want to see no face but yours

From the first day I knew that in falling for Shirin I must, like Farhad, wash my hands of my sweet life

I love you against the judgment of everyone in the world Though it mock my reason, though it breach my faith

And if you take up the sword, I will throw down my shield before you For without a sword you have already slain me — with those silver wrists