Have the poets left in the garment a place for a patch to be patched by me; and did you know the abode of your beloved after reflection?2
The vestige of the house, which did not speak, confounded thee, until it spoke by means of signs, like one deaf and dumb.
HOW many singers before me! Are there yet songs unsung?
Dost thou, my sad soul, remember where was her dwelling place?
Behind their veils glimmer apparently
As if the sharp blade of the sword stabbing my heart fiercely
If they are unsheathed, the brave man becomes coward readily
And his eyeholes turn ulcerated replete with tears shed heavily
And to where their cameleers proceed along or halting?
Yesterday thy place showed sociable deer played joyfully
.But today the craws caw instead of them gloomily.
O, Ablah's dwelling where Ablah's tribe is camped.