Alas, I left my heart behind upon the parting day, And now sans
heart, sans hope, abide all lonely in my dole.
Pause with me, O my friend, what while I take my leave of one By
whose sweet speech diseases all and sorrows are made whole.
Having said this, he wept awhile and fell down in a swoon, whilst
Taj el Mulouk looked at him wonderingly then coming to himself,
he stared fixedly before him, with distracted air, and repeated
these other verses:
I rede thee beware of her glance, for, lo, 'tis a wizard, I ween!
None 'scapeth unscathed of the shafts of her eyes, that has
gazed on their sheen.
For, trust me, black eyes, that are armed with the grace of a
languorous look, Are swifter and sharper to wound than
scimitars, tempered and keen.
And let not thy mind be beguiled by the sweet and the soft of her
words; For the fever that springs from her speech
o'ermasters the senses, demesne.
Soft-sided, were silk but to press on her skin, it would cause it
to bleed, So delicate-bodied she is and so nesh, as forsooth
thou hast seen.
Right chary she is of the charms 'twixt her neck and her anklets
that lie, And what is the sweetest of scents to the
fragrance that breathes from my queen!
Then he gave a sob and swooned away a second time. When Taj el
Mulouk saw him thus, he was perplexed about his case and went up
to him.
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