1. Are those branches of a bān tree that I see, or profiles
And moons of a tamm wood that conceal the covers?

2. Are those thin, delicate slices or languid eyelids?
Is that dark brown slender or deadly spears?

3. Are those arrows or polished sword blades
That have as their target my very heart and mind?

4. I would ransom my soul to redeem our Shādān, whom I love;
My heart is captivated by passion for him.

5. He is a prince of beauty, and his soldiers are the stars;
His stature does him justice, and he is most just.

6. He has an eyebrow that blocks my gaze from seeing him,
While his glancing eye works wonders in my heart.

7. I raised to him the story of my flowing tears complaining;
He dashed off his signature, while my cheek was questioning.

8. I complained, but he paid no heed, and I spoke, but to no avail;
He made his love knot fast in my heart, though still flirting.

9. He is slow to approach, his charms are many,
Prolonging his favors, perfect and complete.

10. I take him to task grammatically, seeking pretext,
So his linguistic errors and declensions appear.

11. He conjugates his love, though he be the object,
And he makes my estrangement the active subject.

12. I gained expertise in my love for him, like one
Debating the legal views of dissenting scholars.

13. So my master, what harm if I were a Shāfiʿite,
While through your union you make me as you desire?

14. For I profess God’s unity in love, crazed
With passion for you, heedless what the critics say.