"Lady of beauty, say, who taught thee hard and harsh design, * To slay with longing Love's excess this hapless lover thine? An thou fain disremember me beyond our parting day, * Allah will know, that thee and thee my memory never shall tyne. Thou blamest me with bitter speech yet sweetest 'tis to me; * Wilt generous be and deign one day to show of love a sign? I had not reckoned Love contained so much of pine and pain; * And soul distress until I came for thee to pain and pine Never my heart knew weariness, until that eve I fell * In love wi' thee, and prostrate fell before those glancing eyne! My very foes have mercy on my case and moan therefor; * But thou, O heart of Indian steel, all mercy dost decline. No, never will I be consoled, by Allah, an I die, * Nor yet forget the love of thee
