For your eyes, what the heart has suffered and what it has suffered.
For your eyes, what the heart has experienced and endured, and for love, what remains of me and what is no longer. If only I were not one whose heart is entered by love, but whoever sees your eyelids will fall in love. Between contentment and discontent, nearness and distance, there is room for the tearful eyelashes. The sweetest love is that in which its owner doubts union, and in separation, he hopes and fears forever. Angry with coquetry, intoxicated with youth, I interceded for her with the gleam of my youth. And a clear, honey-stained, clear-eyed one, I concealed my mouth from him. He kissed my parting and the necks of gazelles like yours. They visited me, and I could not distinguish the bare from the adorned. Not everyone who loves is chaste when alone, like my chastity. He pleases the lover, and the horses meet. May God grant the days of youth what pleases them and does the deed of the aged Babylonian. If you wear time enjoying it, you will be worn out, and the garment will not be worn out. I have not seen glances like those on the day of their departure. They sent all the killing from every compassionate person. They turned bewildered eyes, as if their pupils were composite. Above the mercury of the evening, they run away from the sight of weeping, and from the pleasure of farewell, the fear of separation. We bid them farewell, and the separation within us is like the spear of Ibn Abi al-Hayja’ in the heart of a legion. A sharp, decisive force. The weaving of David is with it when it falls into it, like the weaving of the woven silk. It is a guide for the kings of the armies, as if it chooses the souls of the warriors and selects. It tears apart every shield and armor for them, and tears apart for them every wall and trench. It raids with it between al-Luqan and Wasit. He plants it between the Euphrates and Damascus, and returns it red, as if its soundness weeps blood from the mercy of the meticulous. So do not convey to him what I say, for he is brave; whenever the thrust is mentioned to him, he is eager. He strikes with the tips of swords, his fingers are playful with the tips of eloquent speech. Like one who asks the rain for a drop, like one who reproaches him, like one who says to the heavens, "Be gentle." You have been generous until you have been generous in every religion, and until praise has come to you from every source. The king of Rome saw your satisfaction with generosity, so he stood up. The station of the flattering beggar, and he left the sharp spears humbled before one more skilled and adept at thrusting than him. He wrote from a distant land, whose aim was near, on horses that outpaced you. His messenger from there traveled in your path, and he did not travel except over split heads. When he drew near, the flashing, glittering ray of iron concealed his position. He came walking on the carpet, and he did not know whether he was striving towards the sea or ascending to the moon. And the enemies did not deter you from their lives with anything like submissive speech. Adorned, and if you had written to him before this, you would have written to him on the back of the Domustaq. If you give him safety from you, he is a questioner, and if you give him the edge of the sword, then be generous. And did the white, sharp swords leave any of them captive to a ransom or a slave to a freer? They came to its edges like the flocks of sandgrouse and passed over it, one after another. I reached with the sword of the light a rank with which I illuminated what is between west and east. If he wishes to play with a beard A fool I saw, my dust, then he said to him, "The truth is, I did not intend to provoke the envious, but he who crowds the sea drowns. The prince tests people with his opinion and turns a blind eye knowingly to every trickster. Lowering one's gaze is of no use if the heart's gaze is not lowered. O you who are sought, be near him and you will be protected. O you who are deprived, turn to him and you will be provided for. O most cowardly of knights, befriend him and you will be bold. O bravest of the brave, leave him and you will be scattered. If the enemies strive to undermine his glory, he strives." His grandfather's efforts in their plotting are a desperate endeavor, and no clear favor will prevail over the enemy if it is not the favor of the fortunate and successful one.
