Aye Jane Man Aseerat

'O my soul is your prisoner, O my life is a sacrifice for you / My life has reached its end without the ruby of your life-giving lips' — the opening lines pair captivity and sacrifice, two registers of complete surrender. The soul is captive (aseerat); the life is offered up. 'Ruby lips' (yaqut-e-lab) as life-giving (jan-bakhsh) is a classical figure: the beloved's lips as something that could restore life to the dead speaker, which is withheld.

'You walk away gracefully while I with two weeping eyes / Wander lost and scattered like a lock of hair behind you' — 'scattered like a lock of hair' (chun zolf parishaan) is a striking image. A lock of hair that comes loose falls scattered, without direction, each strand going its own way. The speaker, following the beloved who walks with composed grace, is exactly this: directional only insofar as they follow her, but inwardly disordered.

'I have not the luck to spend one night with my hand in your hair / Nor the strength to flee from your cruelty even for a day' — the double impossibility: neither lucky enough to achieve what is desired, nor strong enough to escape what is painful. The speaker is held in place not by bonds but by the simultaneous failure of two opposite motions — toward and away.