Number 16

If we get drunk on the ruby lips of beautiful idols, in that drunkenness we hide the wine itself. The whimper of those who seal their lips out of fear is more disgraceful; don't silence us, for we cry out loud. The childlike tear on my lashes does the crying out, otherwise we would hold our tongue from complaint. A single tender glance has plundered us completely; whatever profit we make, we turn into loss. Every moment, lost in a wave of moaning, in our searching we send sorrowful letters to our beloved. We have never strayed from humility and self-abasement; whatever we have done, we keep on doing the same. Fayyaz, we die from the cruelty of our friend; in the end, we make our own faithfulness plain to see.