O who shamest the Moon and the sunny glow: ✿ Thou whose slaught’ring tyranny lays me low;
With the sword of a look thou hast shorn my heart, ✿ How escape thy sword-glance fatal of blow?
Thus eke are thine eyebrows a bow that shot ✿ My bosom with shafts of fiercest lowe:
From thy cheeks’ rich crop cometh Paradise; ✿ How, then, shall my heart the rich crop forego?
Thy graceful shape is a blooming branch, ✿ And shall pluck the fruits who shall bear that bough.
Perforce thou drawest me, robst my sleep; ✿ In thy love I strip me and shameless show:[[291]]
Allah lend thee the rays of most righteous light, ✿ Draw the farthest near and a tryst bestow:
Then have ruth on the vitals thy love hath seared, ✿ And the heart that flies to thy side the mo’e!
And when she ended her recitation, passion overcame her and she was distraught for love and wept copious tears, rain-like streaming down. This burnt the Prince’s heart and he in turn became troubled and distracted for love of her. So he drew nearer to her and kissed her hands and wept with sore weeping and they ceased not from lover-reproaches and converse and versifying, until the call to mid-afternoon prayer (nor was there aught between them other than this), when they bethought them of parting and she said to him, “O light of mine eyes and core of my heart, the time of severance has come between us twain: when shall we meet again?” “By Allah,” replied he (and indeed her words shot him as with shafts), “to mention of parting I am never fain!” Then she went forth of the pavilion, and he turned and saw her sighing sighs would melt the rock and weeping shower-like tears; whereupon he for love was sunken in the sea of desolation and improvised these couplets:—
O my heart’s desire! grows my misery ✿ From the stress of love, and what cure for me?