،òº êïìôë Äي ëئئ ،êڻî ½بôا ³º.وÄÇي وò وئ Óبôبê، ò́ ـμـ( 1 داμÇئن ôæئڻ، êéó ÄÇ)Where the Beloved shoots an arrow of love
there the physicians feel baffled
and forget all of their knowledge.
،¦÷ ðرو م، ô ،òڻp î !½بôا îڳ.ïåئن èئن í ́ Äèان ،¦ئïs ò»ìïì ́ !êóÄj( 1 داμÇئن ôæئڻ، êéó ÄÇ)O’ Beloved! Strike by raising the hand
do desist not to favour me
If I die of the wound caused by you
I shall be honoured.
داôïëئن، ò ۾ دل ،òڻp î !½بôا îڳïÇئن، íë آئðن ÍبÄ ،òئ ðכ ́ ئن ئن.êôڻÇ èئرðó òp ðèن í ́ ðmان، اóئê òp êïì( 1 داμÇئن ôæئڻ، êéó ÄÇ)O’ Beloved! Strike by raising the hand
it is my heart’s silent prayer
If I cry people would know
I can’t bear patience as well
How would I express to others
that the beloved has himself struck me.