Scent of Spring

It seemed that on the night of December, April fell from the heights,

He covered the firmament with a carpet of flowers and wet dust.

Washed with tears of clouds, the gardens were dressed in bright silk,

And the spicy amber aroma of the spring wind brings us.

In the evening the purple fire shone in the fields of the tulip,

In the azure hidden by the creator, the flight showed us the clouds.

The flower laughs at me in the distance - or else it calls me Leili.

Sobbing, the cloud will pass - Majnun, perhaps, sheds tears.

And the brook smells like roses, as if my dear

She washed the roses of her cheeks in the blue of clear waters,

She should dissolve her braid - and a hundred hearts drink bliss,

But two hundred blood will go out, only she will throw an angry gaze.

As long as a fool cannot distinguish a rose from a thorn,

While the madman, like honey, the sickly dope drinks.

Let thorns be roses for all your admirers,

And, like a dope, let your enemies reject sweet honey ...

Rudaki