What should I tell you, O Prince of Arabia
You already know what is in my heart
In your separation, O you who bear the title of the Untaught One
Our sleepless nights are so hard to bear
In your love, I have lost all sense of consciousness
How long will I remain in this state of unconsciousness
Turn your ear to my words sometime
No one has ever returned empty-handed from your door
No one has ever returned empty-handed from your door
Each seeker has returned with his desires fulfilled
For your sorrowful lover...
O master, please spare a glance for your sorrowful lover
O master, please spare a glance for your sorrowful lover
Else the pages of existence will become disarrayed"

O morning breeze, if you go
To that sacred land someday
Present my greetings at the blessed grave
Where the revered Prophet rests

O Mustafa, O Mujtaba, show us mercy
Yours is the hand all the helpless and hopeless grasp
I am a sinner, feeble and helpless, friendless and destitute, and you
Are the only one who cares for me
O musk-willow, scattering fragrance
O sweet breeze of the early morn
O you who cures ills, O you with the breath of Jesus
O consoler of the grief-stricken
O auspicious messenger
I beg you in the name of that same fragrance

What should I tell you, O Prince of Arabia
You already know what is in my heart
In your separation, O you who bear the title of the Untaught One
Our sleepless nights are so hard to bear
In your love, I have lost all sense of consciousness
How long will I remain in this state of unconsciousness
Cast a stolen glance towards me sometime
No one has ever returned empty-handed from your door
No one has ever returned empty-handed from your door
No one has ever returned empty-handed from your door
Each seeker has returned with his desires fulfilled
Each seeker has returned with his desires fulfilled
For your sorrowful lover...
O master, please spare a glance for your sorrowful lover
Else the pages of existence will become disarrayed
O master, please spare a glance for your sorrowful lover
Else the pages of existence will become disarrayed

O king of the holy sanctuary
O king of the holy sanctuary, bless us with your merciful gaze
So that our days of woe may turn for the better

Let a life of peace and contentment be my fate
May my ship never sink even in troubled waters - let this be my fate
It’s not that heaven would not be acceptable to me, but
O Writer of Destinies, let Medina be my fate