English
When the Longing Heart Went to the Gardens
Once, when my longing heart would wander through the gardens,
the scent of roses and sweet basil would carry me out of myself.
The nightingale would cry out, the rose would tear its own robe;
but when I thought of you, I forgot all of that.
Your love lives in every heart, your seal is on every lip,
your passion in every head, your secret in every soul.
The moment I made my vow to you, I broke my vows to all others;
after you, breaking every other promise is only fair.
While the thorn of longing for you clings to the hem of my robe,
it would be shallow of me to go strolling among the flowerbeds.
Whoever is brought to his knees by a pain like this
must wash his hands of every cure.
If seeking you brings me hardship, so be it;
when the love is for the sanctuary, the desert crossing is easy.
Every arrow in the quiver, if it strikes this wounded heart,
let me too be counted among your sacrifices.
Anyone who sets his eyes on a lover with brows like a drawn bow
must be ready to be a shield before all the arrows.
They say, 'Enough, Saadi, stop speaking of her love';
yet I keep speaking, and after me they will speak of it for ages.