And of me say the fools: br I entered the lodges of women br And never left. br And they call for my hanging, br Because about the matters of my beloved br I, poetry, compose. br I never traded br Like others br In Hashish. br I never stole. br I never killed. br I, in broad day, have loved. br Have I sinned? br br And of me say the fools: br With my poetry br I violated the sky’s commands. br Said who br Love is br The honor-ravager of the sky? br The sky is my intimate. br It cries if I cry, br Laughs if I laugh br And its stars br Greatens their brilliance br If br One day I fall in love. br What so br If in the name of my beloved I chant, br And like a chestnut tree br In every capital I, her, plant. br br Fondness will remain my calling, br Like all prophets. br And infancy, innocence br And purity. br I will write of my beloved’s matters br Till I melt her golden hair br In the sky’s gold. br I am, br And I hope I change not, br A child br Scribbling on the stars’ walls br The way he pleases, br Till the worth of love br In my homeland br Matches that of the air, br And to love dreamers I become br A diction-ary, br And over their lips I become br An A br And a B.