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I fell aweeping for fear of parting and poured forth the tears of the eye, reciting the following verses:
The nights of estrangement I love; yet not that in them I delight, But fate peradventure shall cause reunion ensue their despite;
And eke, on like wise, I abhor the days of enjoyment, because I see that all things in this world still issue in ceasing outright.
She strove to solace me with soft speech, but I was drowned in the sea of passion, fearing, even in the midst of union, the anguish of separation, for excess of longing and desire; and I bethought me of the misery of absence and estrangement and repeated these verses:
Even in her arms I me bethought of severance from her And from mine eyes the tears ran down, a ruddy-coloured flood,
Like tragacanth, and straight I wiped mine eyes upon her neck, For of the use of camphor[1] ’tis to stay the flow of blood.
Then she called for food and there came four damsels, high-bosomed maids, who set before us meats and fruits and sweetmeats and flowers and wine, such as befit none but kings. So we ate and sat at the wine, compassed about with flowers and herbs of sweet savour, in a chamber fit only for kings. Presently, one of her maids brought her a bag of silk, which she opened and taking thereout a lute, laid it in her lap and touched its strings, whereupon it complained, as the child complains to its mother, and she sang the following verses:
Drink not of wine except it be at the hands of a loveling slim, Who in brightness of soul resembles it and it resembles him.
The drinker of wine, in very sooth, hath no delight thereof, Except the cheek of the fair be pure, who doth the goblet brim.
On this wise, O Commander of the Faithful, I abode with her, month after month, till all my money was spent;
- ↑ Camphor is with the Arabs a favourite object of comparison for anything white, especially a white skin.
