«On my heart’s blood drink is no more feeding, / Those old fears of mine I now can calm. / To a teahouse I have come to heal them / With the dark-blue flowers of Teheran. Serving me himself, the tubby owner, / Keen before his Russian guest to shine. / Sets upon the table dainty bowls of ...»
«Today I asked the man who changes / Tumans for rubles, one for two, / How should I say to the fair Lala / In Persian softly: “I love you”. Today I asked the money-changer, / In tones as soft as Lake Van’s bliss, / How should I make to the fair Lala / Sweet references to “kiss”...»
«Shaganeh, my divine Shaganeh! / It’s the North, I suppose, that inspires me, / And to talk of our fields never tires me, / Of the rye where the moon shadows play. / Shaganeh, my divine Shaganeh! It’s the North, I suppose, that inspires me. / Can your moon with our huge moon compare?. ...»
«You, dear, said Saadi the poet / Would kiss only on the breast. / This I’ll somehow leam, I promise, / So your patience I request. “Roses grow beyond the Euphrates / Prettier than girls,” you sang. / I’d not let you sing such phrases / If I were a wealthy man. I would cut down ...»