1. A beauty made more beautiful by her charm;
When she moves on from her abode the countries yearn.

2. When her story’s told again, more lovely it becomes,
Though oft repeated tales lose grace and worth.

3. That day the days did witness beauty bright,
And sweets—that she amidst them peerless shone.

4. He kindled flames of passion for her sake,
Her wine his solace when no dice were cast.

5. It lifts her up when mixed the wine she pours
As pearls were strung between the drinking horns.

6. In hand a cup, from which two likenesses
Of her are medicine of salve and cheek.

7. And when a singing girl enchants your ear,
What need for you to leave good sense behind?

8. Her left hand on the lute shoots rays of light;
Her right hand thundering when the strings are struck.

9. She shows you a pleiad robed in gown of gold,
Begirt with reddish brown unhewn chrysolite.

10. When sorrow burdened me I'd steal away
To T̤āriqah at the break of day,

11. And finding there the cure for all my griefs
In songs and wine drunk with my boon companions.