1. My heart, in the keeping of graceful beauties, lies captive;

    and my soul professes the creed of lovers.

  2. The source of my madness—and madness takes many forms—

    lies in eyes that surpass even manifest sorcery;

  3. in those eyes, when their lids stir, there is repose.

    Ah, boon companions! Consuming passion has afflicted me,

  4. and the magic of the beauties’ eyelids has sapped my strength.

    Glances of oryx-eyed beauties—Harut himself has told of them:

  5. if they chance upon a heart empty of love,

    they tell it, “Be enamored,” and so it becomes.

Sol 5.6