To your rose knee from your curved almond waist.

Come, my beloved!

Your light breast veil is tawny brown with stags,

Stags with eyes of emerald, hunted by red kings.

Come, my beloved!

Muhammad Din

is wandering; he is drunken and mad;

For a year he has been dying. Send for the doctor!

Come, my beloved!

From the Pus'hto of Muhammad Din Tilai (Afghans, nineteenth century).