1. Your mirage accompanies me gently,
So I am immersed in perfume and garment.

2. A tanned mirage, soft in features,
Gentle in gesture, rosy in love.

3. It beautifies the sands for me with harvest and shade,
And winks at me with cups and drinks.

4. And plucked what illuminates from specters,
On sleepy eyelids like a fortress.

5. And justified hope, so it became more compassionate to me
Than loved ones and companions.

6. It erased the exile’s hatred of the deserts
And my bitter loneliness and estrangement.

7. So O comfort of hearts, though I have no knowledge,
And O comfort of eyes, though I have no companions.

8. Your mirage is mercy and favor,
Its aromas poured on my torment.

9. I urge my steps into the reddened blaze,
To its green oases, moist with dew.

10. It quenched my eyes with its vista, and watered
The thirsty sands with dripping drops.

11. If youth were as we knew it,
And I paid back its favor with my youth,

12. I would have wept at the mirage, when it turned
And left me alone. I would have wept for the mirage,

13. And certainty grieved me. So oh my yearning
For the lush green delusions!

14. Deceits for the mirage, hidden, except
The specters of jinn in dissolved sands.

15. Fade, oh mirage, your steps... Passion
For landmarks and domes.

16. Your steps indicated by a scent and love,
So I inhale what your soles trod of dust.

17. The mirage watered the night shadows with my heart’s loyalty,
And the scent of my conscience and youth of my passion.

18. And it nurtured it with the dew of my tears,
And pampered it with the most gentle of my reproach.

19. With what is between my ribs of yearning,
Salted in witnessing and in absence.

20. With the fire that excites me, the visions of my madness,
My faith in your love, my suspicion.

21. With your face, and it is light in my prayers,
With your whisper, and it is a rose in my book.

22. With the dignity of my torment, the shyness of my grief,
My intoxication when I glimpse you and my discomposure.

23. With the melodies of dawn murmuring,
With what spring poured on the meadows.

24. The mirage watered from me with my soul,
On deprivation, abundant clouds.

25. So it becomes, and its blessing is certainty,
And the sands can do without clouds.

26. And it kisses what I chant from my lips,
And sips what I sanctify of prose.

27. It is my disposition and youthful heart,
And the prime of hearts, without affectation.

28. My life was dyed with your refined tan complexion,
And what is most lovely of my wishes.

29. And your blame to us is a tribe who denounced—
Light is too lofty for blame and denouncement.

30. You are the light in my eye and heart,
However you are, of honey or vinegar.

31. Your conscience is radiance without sunset,
And your eyes are mysteries without veils.

32. I stood at the door of your glory reassured,
As if fate and the world were at my door.