Pagina 482 van 1116

"Tell her who turneth from our love to work it injury sore, * And

taketh her a fine new love the old love tossing o'er: We cry

enough o' thee ere thou enough of us shalt cry! * What past

between us doth suffice and haply something more."[FN#347]

When I heard this, O Commander of the Faithful, I wept and looked

at him and began repeating these couplets:-

"To severance you doom my love and all unmoved remain; * My tear

sore lids you sleepless make and sleep while I complain: You make

firm friendship reign between mine eyes and insomny; * Yet can my

heart forget you not, nor tears can I restrain: You made me swear

with many an oath my troth to hold for aye; * But when you

reigned my bosom's lord you wrought me traitor bane: I loved you

like a silly child who wots not what is Love; * Then spare the

learner, let her not be by the master slain! By Allah's name I

pray you write, when I am dead and gone, * Upon my tomb, This

died of Love whose senses Love had ta'en: Then haply one shall

pass that way who fire of Love hath felt, * And treading on a

lover's heart with ruth and woe shall melt."