She who is the object of my love
Has just declared she will not grant me
Another kiss, but at the price of my existence:
Ah! why have I not a thousand lives,
That I might sacrifice them all on these conditions.
The flame which she has enkindled in my heart
Is so bright, that it dazzles the universe:
It is a torch enclosed within crystal.
This heart is a Christian temple,
Wherein Beauty has established her sanctuary;
And the sighs which escape from it
Are like the loud ringing bells.[5]
Ah! too fascinating object! how dangerous
Are thy looks!--they wound indifferently
The hearts of young and old: they are
More to be dreaded than the fatal arrows of the mighty Toos.[6]
Delight us with a glimpse of thy lovely form;
Charm our senses by the elegance of thy attitudes;
Our hearts are transported by thy glances.
The proud peacock, covered with confusion,
Dares not display before thee the rich
And pompous variety of his plumage.
Thy ebon ringlets are chains, which hold
Monarchs in captivity, and make
Them slaves to the power of thy charms.
The dust on which thou treadest becomes an ornament,
Worthy of the imperial diadem of Caus.[7]
Haughty kings now prostrate themselves
Before Khacan,[8] since he has obtained
A favourable look from the object of his love.