She has circled me with the black magic of her brows
And shot small arrows at me.
The black curl that lies upon her temple
Is a scorpion pointing his needle at the stars.
Her eyes seem tight, tight shut;
But I believe she is awake.
From the Arabic of Yazid Ebn Moauia (seventh century).
MOALLAKA
The poets have muddied all the little fountains.
Yet do not my strong eyes know you, far house?