1. Your beauty drew me with a veil this morning,
Young maidens whose youth is freshly bloomed.

2. They sway though twenty pilgrimages have passed,
Like peaks on the mountain's back at dawn.

3. The dwellings - while their people bore their load
And journeyed on, their youth remained behind.

4. They seemed, when I knew their features first,
A precious trust in sculptors' hands designed.

5. When I entrusted you, O mother of Malik,
To time, firm on foundations long enshrined

6. My passion that within me stirs, when friends
Reveal their love, I keep concealed, resigned.

7. No home, though filled with happiest life, has held
My eyes beyond a transitory stay.

8. Would he the heir, predestined for our realm,
On whom is bound an amulet 'gainst death's claim!

9. Clouds, not of lightning-charged rainstorm, but rather
Of gentle draft whose water is pure balm.

10. Nor trailing clouds that when the hot wind blows
Let through a barren, flaming blast of drought.

11. When they alight upon the earth, its boughs expire,
And weep for them until the brushwood lives.