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O thou my sovereign, dear my heart and life, That in my inmost bosom hast thy throne,
Prithee, bestow a kiss upon thy slave; If not as gift, then even as a loan.
I will repay it, (mayst thou never fail!) Even as I took it, not a little gone.
Or, if thou wish for more than thou didst lend, Take and content thee; it is all thine own.
May health’s fair garment ever gladden thee, Thee that o’er me the wede of woe hast thrown!
Her singing charmed Ali ben Bekkar, and he said to her, ‘Sing me more of the like of these verses.’ So she struck the strings and sang as follows:
By excess of estrangement, beloved mine, Thou hast taught long weeping unto my eyne.
O joy of my sight and its desire, O goal of my hopes, my worship’s shrine,
Have pity on one, whose eyes are drowned In the sorrowful lover’s tears of brine!
When she had finished, Shemsennehar said to another damsel, ‘Sing us somewhat, thou.’ So she played a lively measure and sang the following verses:
His looks ’twas made me drunken, in sooth, and not his wine; And the grace of his gait has banished sleep from these eyes of mine.
’Twas not the wine-cup dazed me, but e’en his glossy curls; His charms it was that raised me and not the juice o’ the vine.
His winding browlocks have routed my patience, and my wit Is done away by the beauties his garments do enshrine.[1]
When Shemsennehar heard this, she sighed heavily, and the song pleased her. Then she bade another damsel sing; so she took the lute and chanted the following:
A face that vies, indeed, with heaven’s lamp, the sun; The welling of youth’s springs upon him scarce begun.
His curling whiskers write letters wherein the sense Of love in the extreme is writ for every one.
Beauty proclaimed of him, whenas with him it met, “A stuff in God’s best loom was fashioned forth and done!”
- ↑ These verses are full of plays upon words, which it is impossible to render in a translation.
