In the beginning, the light of your beauty manifested itself.
Love appeared and set fire to the whole world.
Your face displayed glory, but found angels had no love.
It became like fire from ghayrat and struck on Adam.
Reason wanted to kindle its lamp from that flame.
The lightning of ghayrat flashed and threw the world into chaos.
The pretender wanted to come to the scene of the mystery.
The hand of the Unseen came and hit the stranger’s breast.
All others chose the way of pleasure.
It was my grief-stricken heart that chose pain.
My heavenly soul had the fancy of your chin-pit.
So it hung from the ring of your coiled and curled tress.
Hafes wrote the pleasure-book of your love on that day
When he crossed out the means of the happy heart.