Ah! inquire not into the wretched. Khacan's fate:
Thy waving locks have deprived him of reason;
But how many thousand lovers, before him,
Have fallen victims to the magic of thy beauty.
III.
My soul, captivated by thy charms,
Wastes itself away in chains, and bends beneath
The weight of oppression. Thou hast said
"Love will bring thee to the tomb—arise,
And leave his dominions" But, alas!