That blessing which the fountain of life
Bestowed in former ages on Khezr[9]
Thy lips can communicate in a manner
Infinitely more efficacious.
Nature, confounded at the aspect of thy lovely mouth,
Conceals her rubies within a rock;--
Our hearts, ensnared by those eyes which express
All the softness of amorous intoxication,
Are held captive in the dimples of thy chin.
Love has excited in my soul a fire
Which cannot be extinguished;--
My bosom is become red with flames,
Like a parterre of roses;--
This heart is no longer mine:
It hangs suspended on the ringlets of thy hair--
And thou, cruel fair! thou piercest it
With a glance of thy cold disdain.
Ah! inquire not into the wretched. Khacan's fate:
Thy waving locks have deprived him of reason;
But how many thousand lovers, before him,
Have fallen victims to the magic of thy beauty.