Is it from recollection of
neighbours in the valley of Dhi Salami
That you mix tears with blood as
they flow from your eyes?
Or perhaps sweet breezes blowing from Kadhima's direction?
Or bolts of lightning that flash
in the depths of Mount Iddam?
What's wrong with your eyes? You say, "stop!"
But that only increases their
painful downpour;
Or your heart? You say, "Wake up!"
Bit it wanders even further
astray in distraction!
Does someone so fooled with love think it can be hid
Behind such a downpour of tears
or a heart's raging fires?
Without love's passion you would never have wept so over the
traces of your beloved's camp
Nor spent sleepless nights
recalling the fragrance of a willow or the
mountain your darling walked in.
Nor would the mere memory of tents and those who dwelt there
Have draped you in mourning
clothes, weeping and wasting away.
How can you deny such a love, when true tears
And real heartbreak testify so
strongly against you?
The sorrow of love has etched two salty troughs down your face
And branded gaunt marks on it as
pallid as yellow and blood-red roses.
How true! In the night a vision of the one I long for came and deprived
me of sleep.
But love is famous for impending
pleasures with pain!
O you who fault me for this vestal love, accept my excuse
Yet it you judged fairly, you
would find me blameless.
May you never have to live like this! I can't even keep it a secret
From my critics, I am so feverish
and lovesick!
You have given me good advice, but I can't hear it
A lover's ears are deaf to the outcries of love-critics.
How can I listen? I don't even trust the counsel of grey hairs,
And everyone knows old age is
guileless when it comes to good counsel!