Won't my beloved leave that frown?
And show his lovely face?
My bosom is consumed in the fire of love.

Won't he glide into the garden?
Buds will burst into ecstatic bloom,
Hyacinths open out amazed,
And the bulbuls will be mad with joy

If he favours me with a visit,
I'll pray he softens his ire,
Beg for his forgiveness and the boon
Of his kindness and love.

I dare not meet him on the road,
When I see him from afar.
Won't he halt his step to help me?
Gaze at him by stealth?

If he comes, I'd beg he stay,
And pour out all my woes.
Won't he listen and understand,
And put a balm on my wounded heart?

When he wakes up from slumber,
Opening his lovely eyes,
The world of men will wake up too,
And also jealous strife.

Won't he offer me a drink?
From those brimful goblets on display?
For love's laws lay down a tithe
On beauty's wealth for lovers!

If he just looks at the garden,
wouldn't the flowers tear their robes?
And lie down in eternal sleep?
If leaving all bygones and anger,
He comes to visit me,
I shall recount most faithfully
All the suffering I have borne.
Jewels dance round his face,
Like the stars round the moon.
O, how the pearls adorn his ears!
Why doesn't he make them swing?

I filled all beds with flowers,
Adorned them with loving hands,
Hoping that masval and jessamine
May wean him from his frivolous ways.
Mahjoor will soon send him a letter,
Written in his own blood.
He might then listen, see the pain,
And be fair in love's domain!