Belov?d in pleasure and pain, chagrin and contentment alike,
Whate'er may betide, ye alone are the goal that my wishes
ensue.
There's one that still holdeth a heart, a heart sore tormented of
mine; Ah, would she'd have ruth on my plight and pity the
soul that she slew!
Not every one's eye is as mine, worn wounded and cankered with
tears, And hearts that are, even as mine, the bondslaves of
passion, are few.
Ye acted the tyrant with me, saying, "Love is a tyrant, I trow."
Indeed, ye were right, and the case has proved what ye said
to be true.
Alack! They've forgotten outright a passion-distraught one,
whose faith Time 'minisheth not, though the fires in his
entrails rage ever anew.
If my foeman in love be my judge, to whom shall I make my
complaint? To whom of injustice complain, to whom for
redress shall I sue?
Were it not for my needing of love and the ardour that burns in
my breast, I had not a heart love-enslaved and a soul that
for passion must rue.
To return to the princess Budour. When she awoke, she sought her
husband and found him not: then she saw the ribbon of her
trousers undone and the talisman missing and said to herself, 'By
Allah, this is strange! Where is my husband? It would seem as
if he had taken the talisman and gone away, knowing not the
secret that is in it.
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