The promise of the kiss the beloved puts off till tomorrow

The promise of the kiss, the beloved ever putteth off for to-morrow;

Then how can my heart place confidence in a pledge like this?

Whoso is vain enough to depend upon the affairs of the future,

The wise and sagacious will laugh that foolish man to scorn.

My friend is not acquainted with the deceitfulness of the world;

Yet still she deceiveth, having, in her heart, naught of truthfulness.

Do not presume to this degree, upon the loveliness of the face:

Behold the autumn! doth it ever, to the rose, any bloom impart?

Thou, who through arrogance, actest thus falsely towards me;

Time will pay back unto thee the requital of these deeds of thine.

In the land of association, the appliances of pleasure will be many;

But the troops of bereavement, full speedily, lay it waste.

Never cast thou thine eyes upon the rose, O nightingale!

For separation will make those fresh wounds of thine still worse.

But is the nightingale wont, through advice, the rose to forswear?

No! 'tis the blast of autumn only that separateth them by force!

Full many have departed in sorrow, with the hope of to-morrow;

Then who will place any reliance on life's fidelity to-day?

Thou, who in the hope of existence therefrom, restest in tranquillity

Doth the empyrean ever any opportunity for continuance allow?

To-day, I perceive the crisis of a contingency on the world impending;

But the future may make apparent unto it some other event.

The Severed had never beheld Bijapur, even in his dreams;

But, at last, that presenteth itself, which his destiny decreed!