O ye who have experienced the stings
Of love, excuse me now and blame me not
In this affair. I know that I shall die,
O'ercome by woe. The doctor of my heart
Protracts my suffering. He cures me not,
Nor yet cuts short the thread of my sad life.
Where is thy cure, O Taleb? Tell me where.
Thy remedy is lost, O good Lord Taleb.