In the garden that holds the wiseman’s tomb, There is said to be a rose blooming anew every day with its bleeding red, And at night, it weeps until dawn, with the harmony that evokes old Shiraz. Death is a tranquil spring country for the soul; It burns like incense in the heart for years on end. And beneath the cool cypress trees that shelter the grave, Every morning, a rose blossoms, and every night, a nightingale sings.
* “Rind” is a term that refers to a carefree person who views worldly matters with pleasure. They do not see themselves bound by any religious tradition, relying solely on God indicating a more mystical and abstract understanding of belief.
Translated by: Mehmet Barın Erturan
Click for the original text