My love, once upon a time I was with you in your paradise,
I thought you had made that paradise only for me,
But one day you showed me the door and sent me down,
A great epic started on earth, perhaps it was in your mind...
...before you had made me out of sounding clay, and your paradise,
Alas, I was not careful, so came with Eve near to the forbidden tree,
Now I hear on earth anklets ringing and I get filled with joy immense,
It reminds me the houri s' dance when their anklets and bracelets resonated in the garden,
The sound broke up into flowers of my love poems that I long to offer...
...to you when you call me back to your garden of eternity,
All my cargo of the stories of Ishq- e -majazi, I burn off in bonfire,
I am hopeful, you will certainly make this loss good to me,
...and give me your holy love,
If my love is pure and sincere, you will, I am sure, fulfill your promise to me:
That you will make me a martyr (immortal) while I live, if I die in your love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem