To the beloved one who shames a full moon's loveliness, *
When shows that slender form that doth the willow-branch
outvie.
If Rose herself would even with his cheek, I say of her *
'Thou art not like it if to me my portion thou
deny:'[FN#55]
His honey-dew of lips is like the grateful water draught *
Would cool me when a fire in heart upflameth fierce and
high:
How shall I give him up who is my heart and soul of me, *
My malady my wasting cause, my love, sole leach of me?"

Then, as the glooms of night closed around her, her yearning
increased and she called to mind the past and recited also these
couplets,

"'Tis dark: my transport and unease now gather might and main,
* And love-desire provoketh me to wake my wonted pain:
The pang of parting takes for ever place within my breast, *
And pining makes me desolate in destitution lain.
Ecstasy sore maltreats my soul and yearning burns my sprite, *
And tears betray love's secresy which I would lief contain:
I weet no way, I know no case that can make light my load, *
Or heal my wasting body or cast out from me this bane.
A hell of fire is in my heart upflames with lambent tongue *
And Laza's furnace-fires within my liver place have ta'en.
O thou, exaggerating blame for what befel, enough *
I bear with patience whatsoe'er hath writ for me the Pen!
I swear, by Allah, ne'er to find aught comfort for their loss;
* "Tis oath of passion's children and their oaths are ne'er