1. No, by Him in whose face the clouds uncovered shine,
And by Him in whose hands the destinies entwine,

2. I will not rest except where tears as wild beasts howl,
And grief itself dissolves and melts to brine;

3. Hot is the wind, but soothing is the pain of love,
And sweet the meeting after long decline.

4. In you my eyes shall close, my limbs shall find their place,
And on your breast shall sink this head of mine;

5. To you shall I be ever turning in desire,
As turns the stranger to his native shrine,

6. And say unto the South wind when it blows,
"With my beloved temper thou thy breath divine."

7. Shall I then seek the North as others sought the South?
Nay, as I sought the South, so seek the North in fine.