I’ll strip my clothes that he my form shall sight ✿ With parting, distance, grief, how poor of plight!
Then he went to the fourth cage, where he found a Bulbul[[62]] which, at sight of him, began to sway to and fro and sing its plaintive descant; and when he heard its complaint, he burst into tears and repeated these couplets:—
The Bulbul’s note, whenas dawn is nigh, ✿ Tells the lover from strains of strings to fly:
Complaineth for passion Uns al-Wujud, ✿ For pine that would being to him deny.
How many a strain do we hear, whose sound ✿ Softens stones and the rock can mollify:
And the breeze of morning that sweetly speaks ✿ Of meadows in flowerèd greenery.
And scents and sounds in the morning-tide ✿ Of birds and zephyrs in fragrance vie;
But I think of one, of an absent friend, ✿ And tears rail like rain from a showery sky;
And the flamy tongues in my breast uprise ✿ As sparks from gleed that in dark air fly.
Allah deign vouchsafe to a lover distraught ✿ Someday the face of his dear to descry!