1. I reproached him, a full moon
Whose robes the dawns had unveiled.

2. A fragrant bough made him sway
Gentle at the bend of inclination.

3. On a night when he was absent from her
The sentry of passion and its watchman,

4. My palm touches a body
That my touch almost melts.

5. And he said gently, at the waist
"In sickness, you are its kinsman."

6. So I said, "He has been absent from me,
Then where, oh where, can he be found?"

7. Then he said to me, mocking,
"He who is absent, his lot is lost."