1. O doves of the ardent abodes, return and coo again,
For I am fondly disposed toward your voices.

2. So they returned, and when they returned, they returned to my misery,
And I almost disclosed my secrets to them.

3. They returned with a rattling like the pouring of wine, as though
They were drunk or mad.

4. My eyes have never seen doves weeping so,
With flowing tears wetting their eyelids.

5. Once they were all doves together in Aital,
But in the morning they dispersed, having no mate.

6. So they began calling loudly, all but one dove
Who moans like the wailing women mourning Noah.

7. She reminds me of Layla, far from her abode,
The throbbing heart of one who slept while grieved.

8. When he retires for sleep, wakefulness troubles his eyes,
The rustling of leaves spread as his bed by the branches.

9. Cascading after weeping in a flashing brilliance,
They preened their feathers while tranquil.

10. Would that Layla were one of them! Would that I
Could fly, while my lifetime with them reposed!

11. Behold, Layla is only a slender hazel branch;
When grasped in palms, she bends.