THE SHADE OF THE SYPRESS
Her eyebrow and her eyelashes the arrow and the arch are still,
Her ringlet tress is odorous still.
We are running our own business still,
She is busy ravishing the heart still.
We are trying to follow her sypress shade still,
From me, the sore-hearted she is absent still.
There is neither a head nor life to be offered to her,
She is all spirit and soul still.
I, the sore-hearted one, uponher candle-face,
Her comely face was visible and is visible still.
The heavenly ones are beyond the stage to be proud of us,
The tale of ‘allam al-asmā is being told still.