Rumi Quatrain, #1487 Foruzanfar

When he saw my dear gaunt and sallow face,
With tears of blood flowing from brook-like eyes
He smiled, and with a laugh said: my darling!
O my tortured brat- O my dear nasty child!

چون زرد و نزار دید او رویک من
خونایه روان ز چشم چون جویک من
خندید و بخنده گفت دلجویک من
ای ظالم مظلومک بد خویک من

Share

Comments

comments

This entry was posted in quatrains translated from Rumi. Bookmark the permalink.