1. In the monastery of Beerah Dākhin are maidens,
With palaces above the slopes of Salwān.

2. When the heart pictures them, you see
The boughs of youth upon them heavy with fruit.

3. Long has the wild deer grazed among them
In delight, no fear makes them shy.

4. How many a monk for the nuns mad longing
For they are white, adorned at the waist with sashes.

5. Swaying as though they were branches,
Radiant as though they were full moons.

6. Maidens - tomorrow to Hell will they hie!
Strange that in Hell there should be houris!

7. On its balconies I saw a light and from wonder -
How can the abode of unbelief shine so bright?

8. Not light was it, but the lingering grace of her
Who once dwelt there for ages and ages.

9. Its sides are beloved, its hill-slopes
Desired, and its splendor abounds.

10. O, how often unto its dweller came
A night whose nature was but to vex!

11. Days when the boughs of time were in leaf
And life was fresh and youth but a bud,

12. When sorrows turned from its folk away
And the eyelid closed on what it did not love,

13. When the branch danced and ring-doves were calling
And the wind all ambergris and perfume,

14. Its hills were uplifted, nobly elevated,
Comely its vale by the breeze combed and curled,

15. Its meadows laughed in their greenery and swayed
As the boughs bent while hours were beguiled,

16. For the monastery bell there was music
And o'er it a screen from all miseries.

17. Now thronged by monks, now loud with scripture,
Its sacramental wine like camphor distilled.

18. O monastery, yours was a joyous repose,
Nay, by the wind, how much bliss you have known!

19. Till even your rocks by delight so were stirred
They had danced but for being of stone.

20. O monastery, where are your white gazelles
With the languor of passion their glances' fire dimmed?

21. O monastery, how many a witty rogue
Has your cloister subdued though his beauty was plain?

22. Latin in wording, a Houris in glance,
His lover's wits by her charms overthrown.

23. O monastery, how many priests declaimed
The Evangels, though save in your walls they ne'er stirred!

24. O monastery, though you are silent still
In you the beauties moulder in the tomb.

25. Gone is that loveliness, those forms are dust,
Those mansions ruined, the peopled empty and bare,

26. So you groan for your former denizens now
With a grief no garment can properly cloak.

27. And when the eye sees you grieve out of pity
For your empty quarters, natural seems your despair.

28. To think on white hair is a useful thing,
A caution - though most remain heedless still.

29. I swear by Muhammad's noble lineaments
For in truth they are light and illumination.

30. I have learnt by this, but still I am one
Whose wont is to sin and be bold in transgression.

31. He whose provision at Judgment is Muhammad
Has nought to grieve him, his sin is forgiven.

32. So I pray, by Muhammad's Lord, that his nation
Be not sorrowed, while Muhammad has bliss.