https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bs1StI9E71M
Translation:
Show your face, for the orchard and rose garden is what I long for
Open your lips, for heaps of sugar are what I long for
O Sun of beauty, come out of the cloud for a moment
For that shining, radiant face is what I long for
From your air, I heard the sound of the falcon-drum
I returned, for the sultan’s arm is what I long for
You said flirtatiously, “Stop bothering me, get lost!”
That “stop bothering me” of yours is what I long for
Your refusal, “Be gone, the king is not at home”
and the aloofness and sternness of the doorkeeper are what I long for
In the hand of everyone that is, there are scraps of goodness
It is the mine of elegance and that quarry that I long for
The bread and water of heaven’s wheel are like a treacherous torrent
I am a fish, a whale, [the sea of] Oman is what I long for
Like Jacob, I cry alas, alack!
Seeing the fair face of Joseph of Canaan is what I long for
By God, without you, the city is a prison for me
Wandering out in the mountains and desert is what I long for
My heart is tired of these weak-spirited companions
The Lion of God and Rostam of Dastan are whom I long for
My soul is sick of Pharaoh and his oppression
the light of the face of Moses the son of Imran is what I long for
I’m tired of these crybabies always complaining
that ranting and raving of drunks is what I long for
I am more eloquent than the nightingale, but because of common envy
there’s a seal on my tongue and mourning is what I long for
Last night the shaykh went around the city, lamp in hand, crying
“I am tired of devils and beasts, a true human is what I long for.”
They said, “He is not be found, we too have searched”
He said “He who is not found is whom I long for.”
Though I am broke, I will not accept a small carnelian
For that rare, precious carnelian is what I long for
Hidden from every eye, while all things seen are from Him
that hidden One manifest in works is whom I long for
My state has gone beyond every desire and longing
From being and place to the foundations is what I long for
My ear heard the tale of belief and became drunk
What of sight’s portion? The image/face of belief is what I long for
In one hand, the winecup, in the other, the Beloved’s curl
to dance so much in the middle of the square is what I long for
That guitar says, “I am dying of expectation
the hand and pick of ‘Uthman are what I long for”
I am Love’s guitar and Love is the guitarist
these graces of the picking of the All-Merciful are what I long for
The rest of this ghazal, o clever singer
continue it on in this style, for this style is what I long for
Show your face, Shams (Sun), the pride of Tabriz, from the East
I am the hoopoe, the presence of Solomon is what I long for
Modified from A.J. Arberry’s translation in his 1968 Mystical Poems of Rumi, Number 51,
Original: