The Brooklyn Rail

She appears—a moon, she sways—a willow branch
Her scent—ambergris, her gaze—a gazelle’s
Sorrow it seems adores my heart
The moment she leaves, it loves to return
Her gazing the moon recalled
To me our nights in al Raqmatain
Each of us beholds a moon
I with her eyes and she with mine

from Night 256

The sun rises—from her lit face
It blushes red—in her cheeks
The sun shines to those watching
Her face appears—and the star, ashamed, hides
If light streams from the opening of her smile
Dawn sparkles—clearing the obscurity of dusk
And if her body opts among moves to sway
The leaves of the willow branch envy her
The sight of her makes all else superfluous
May the god of all things—also the dawn—protect her
She loans the moon part of her beauty
The sun tries to imitate her—and fails
How can the sun have curves that sway?
The moon cannot imitate such beauty of mood and mode
Who can blame me—being entirely devoted to her
Whether in her I break or blend
She owned my heart in a furtive glance
What is left for a lover’s heart?

from Night 731

Oh you—who put the moon and daytime sun to shame
You decided the death of—made helpless—someone who loves you
With that sword of a look cutting through the insides
Who escapes such a sworded glance?
The archery of your eyebrows—jets
Into my heart—arrows of fire and passion
Your cheeks are a harvest—in them I find paradise
Who could patiently await such fruit?
Your high, swaying figure—a blossoming branch
Its fruits are there for me to gather
You drew one by force—and kept me from sleep
In loving you I let go of inhibitions
May god help you with light of lights
Making near what is far—and the sanctuary close
Have compassion for a heart that burns in loving you
In loving you I let go of inhibitions
May god help you with radiant light
To bring far close—and the longed for place near
Feel for a heart seared by love for you
Worn to exhaustion—in your sublimity

from Night 732