Ah! her face the rose, her shift rose-hued, her trousers red their shade; With its flame burns us the fiery garb in which thou are arrayed. Ne'er was born of Adam's children one like thee, O cruel maid! Moon and Sun, in beauty's circle, at thy fairness stand dismayed: Seems it thou the Sun for mother and the Moon for sire hast owned. Captive bound in thy red fillet, grieve I through thy musky hair; Prone I 'neath those golden anklets which thy silvern limbs do wear; Think not I am like thy fillet, empty of thy grace, O fair! Rather to the golden chain, which hangs thy cheek round, me compare: In my sad heart pangs a thousand from thy glance's shafts are found. Eyes with antimony darkened, hands with henna crimson dyed; Through these beauties vain and wanton like to thee was ne'er a bride. Bows of poplar green, thy painted brows; thy glances shafts provide. Poor Fuzuli for thine eyes and eyebrows aye hath longing cried: That the bird from bow and arrow flees not, well may all astound. FROM LEYLI AND MEJNUN Yield not the soul to pang of Love, for Love's the soul's fierce glow; That Love's the torment of the soul doth all the wide world know. Seek not for gain from fancy wild of pang of Love at all; For all that comes from fancy wild of Love's pang is griefs throe. Each curving eyebrow is a blood-stained saber thee to slay; Each dusky curl, a deadly venomed snake to work thee woe. Lovely, indeed, the forms of moon-like maidens are to see— Lovely to see, but ah! the end doth bitter anguish show. From this I know full well that torment dire in love abides, That all who lovers are, engrossed with sighs, rove to and fro. Call not to mind the pupils of the black-eyed damsels bright, With thought, "I'm man"; be not deceived, 'tis blood they drink, I trow. E'en if Fuzuli should declare, "In fair ones there is troth," Be not deceived—"A poet's words are falsehoods all men know." MEJNUN ADDRESSES NEVFIL