1. A home from which its people have strayed
What good is the dust to one perplexed?

2. It did not help her after her lasting glory
Her cares, nor after the flute its player.

3. I was not one who roamed
From a stronger home, or whose clouds poured down.

4. If the west shed tears in a valley,
None will cry for me but the ravens.

5. Sweeter and wiser than to ask the road’s marks -
Her charm gone, her answer grew terse.

6. A tree whose boughs lean over a garden
Of musk, her robes of silk brocade,

7. The hands of life embroidered her robes
With patterns from the sun at dawn’s departure,

8. The crooked fingers of fate left her be, and bent
Away, though crags remained standing there.

9. More melodious than forbidden strings was his glance
In each heart sheathed in its scabbard.

10. The wine circulates as if his heart
Were whirled about by the cups passed to him.

11. The beauty itself sought him out
As though robed by her very clothes.

12. Her glances toy with the minds of men,
Though sick, and play with prohibitions.