1. For two years she has been a captive,
Her freedom taken by the nights' decrees,

2. Yet she was chaste, though fate had stolen her
From the embroiderer's hands, and destinies.

3. So she turned away, leaving behind sisters
Angry at the separation, discontent.

4. The skill of separation left them to decay
While she stayed fresh, her honor unrent.

5. When she saw honor in a stranger's hands
Her heart grew hard against her sisters then.

6. She forgot that those hands were never wont
To be closed tight around the honored women.

7. And he knows well that barriers in generosity
Are shields that guard all virtuous modesty.