1. My eyes have dimmed, unable to discern
What's inscribed on pages, nor anything fair.

2. My sight was my friend; bereft of it, I've lost
All joy in life, all pleasures rare.

3. Long did I train a glance, in youth's springtide,
On a branch hung with blossoms, smooth and spare.

4. I'd bend my neck towards a bough, inclining,
And quaff the pure drink, supple and rare.

5. Passion I held for a fawn, so graceful,
And spent my prime smitten, in loving care.

6. A Turk, still beardless, lovely in nature,
Refined in manners, handsome in air.

7. In Arab lands I loved before, afar,
But now am struck by love, in this snare.

8. Whenever I said: "Who is it that's left you
Smitten, repeating my name in prayer?"

9. That's gone, no more remains for me to do
Except reminisce and lick my lips, if I dare.

10. What use is diversion to a man who's left
Alone by loved ones, in forlorn despair?