On a night whose aspect displayed both light and shade, And whose moon was like a magic circlet of silver, I was engaged in evening conversation at Koufa With companions who had been nourished on the milk of eloquence, So the charms of conversation fascinated us, While wakefulness still prevailed among us, Until the moon had at length disappeared in the West. But when the gloom of night had thus drawn its curtain, And nothing but slumber remained abroad, We heard from the door the low call of a benighted traveler, And then followed the knock of one seeking admission; And we answered, "Who comes here this darksome night?" And the stranger replied:-- "Listen ye who here are dwelling! May you so be kept from ill! So may mischief ne'er befall you, Long as life your breast shall fill! Gloom of dismal night and dreary Drives a wretch to seek your door, Whose disheveled hoary tresses All with dust are sprinkled o'er; Who, though destitute and lonely, Far has roamed on hill and dale, Till his form became thus crooked, And his cheek thus deadly pale; Who, though faint as slender crescent, Ventures here for aid to sue, Hospitable meal and shelter Claiming first of all from you. Welcome then to food and dwelling One so worthy both to share, Sure to prove content and thankful, Sure to laud your friendly care." Fascinated then by the sweetness of his language and delivery, And readily inferring what this prelude betokened, We hasted to open the door, and received him with welcome, Saying to the servant, "Hie! Hie! Bring whatever is ready!" But the stranger said, "By Him who brought me to your abode, I will not taste of your hospitality, unless you pledge to me That you will not permit me to be an incumbrance to you, Nor impose on yourselves necessity of eating on my account." * * * * *