1. I weep for her, though her grave is not wet with tears,
And the tear of separation flows like a tear of caution.

2. And I seek her union with a turning away,
Fearing the evil eye or the perceptiveness of others.

3. Lovers are jealous of the sights of others upon their beloved,
As an enemy, and I was fooled by the beauty of my own sight.

4. So every longingly lover complains of his passion,
And meets from yearning what I met from sight.

5. Among the beauties who come back to hunt their prey,
Setting for the prey itself snares of maidens.

6. A face is bestowed upon her beauty every day,
Born between the sun and the moon.