Poem 3

I told the sweet Gilaki girl: my love, I adore you; I am your servant, ready for your command. She laughed like a flower and teased: Here, you called me, here I am, be still. I said: I am a stranger here, and in love; won't you ask after this poor wanderer? My heart is your slave, my life your humblest servant; ask for them, but don't sell off my faith and belief. Qasem, whatever your fate, by day and by night, you have no choice but to roam Gilan, town by town.