"I fear not the passing of youth if the Beloved desert me not; Youth withers and loses bloom without the sustenance of Love... Saith Farid: Sugar and candy, Sweets and honey, rich milk– All these Lord, are sweet; but nothing to Try devotees so sweet as Thou."

"Lord, give it not to me to Supplicate favours at another's door; Should such be Thy will, Take then life from this body."

"Farid, time was when these frail thighs scoured over desert and hill; Now, feeble with age even the prayer-jug looks as though lying miles away."

"I am all afire I am pain all over. I twist my hands in despair, For I find not my Love. Annoyed art Thou with me, But' tis my own fault, I perceived not the Truth of Thee; I have wasted away my youth, And now can only regret and repent. Rise, O Farid, do your ablutions, Say your morning prayers. The head that bows not to the Lord Should be cut apart from the trunk."

"No night passes when my sorrow-stricken heart does not bleed, No day I spend that does not completely divest me of honour, Never in my life did I drink a draught of water in peace, Which did not irrigate the dry earth through the channels of my eyes."