1. What solace, where is its door?
While the living, their mounts have galloped away.

2. In the most precious of veils he sleeps,
Upon his beauty, his veil.

3. Like the full moon in fright it parts,
As with it parts his garb.

4. Of sweet temperament, bangles that chime
From his bracelets, rings that climb.

5. The informant claimed that
Upon wares, his tents did burn.

6. So you searched, like the blink of an eye,
Or a flood in the night pouring by.

7. When the darkest of nights prevails,
His fingers' henna stains.

8. He trembles like a grouse
In which its chicks huddle close.

9. The newborns stand guard round him
Like a heart shielded by its veil.

10. I came to ask of him but knew
That deprival would be his reply.

11. Woe to me, one whose nature alters,
Pleasing to him only his youth.

12. No messages of his reach me
Neither greetings nor lines in his script.

13. I learned his passion has waned
Since we began to evade his rebukes.

14. Another lad has gained his love,
Basking in the company of his comrades.

15. Fair of humor, a smile that enchants,
Sweet of lips, of noble glance.

16. Resolute he gallops, his vision unblurred,
Spearheading lofty goals never deterred.

17. In the folly of youth he waves
Like a mirage wavering its haze.

18. Allah bless the day Abu Sa'id
Whose rewards we cannot match in trade.

19. His speech free and vivacious,
Does it steal you away or his address?

20. He balanced amiability with reason,
Aiding his logic a conscience in season.

21. From him in love’s passion I turned away
As from embers the sparks at play.

22. Like the sharpness of a well-honed sword
Threatening while holding no discord.

23. Self-sufficient, no need for one
Who only brings swarms to the fore.

24. His ways cannot be traced,
Nor can his seekers determined.

25. Men have conquered the path of reason
Now that its gate has been shut tight.

26. He saw what they could not perceive,
Veiled from them by fog’s blight.

27. Roaring like lionesses in heat
Except for palms, all was quiet.

28. With feathered arrows and fine script
His fear they try to incite.

29. No longer do turns of fate
And time’s upheavals blight.