When I saw my love’s hair, ambergris-hued, o’er her visage shake, “Strange,” I thought, “a moon, musk-shedding, ’midst the flowers its bed should make!” How thy locks, moon-face, are fallen o’er thy cheek in many a curl! As in day he lies reposing, so in strength doth gain the snake. From thy cheek the rose and tulip tint and scent have stol’n indeed; Therefore through the bāzār round they bear them, bounden to the stake. _‘Adenī._ GAZEL Again, then, doth this apple, thy chin, tooth-marks wear! Again they’ve eaten peaches in thine orchard fair! If strange hands have not reached thee, O rosebud-lipped one, Doth thy rose-garden’s pathway a foot-step print bear! I cannot reach thee before rivals all throng thee round: Less for true lover than vile dog dost thou care. Witness that thou with my rivals the cup drain’dst last night, Bears the sleepless and worn look thy languid eyes wear. With whom didst thou last even carouse, that this day Morn’s zephyr about thee did so much news declare? Beholding thy lips hurt, Āfitābī hath said: “Again, then, doth this apple, thy chin, tooth-marks wear!” _Āfitābī._ GAZEL Cast off thy veil, and heaven and earth in dazzling light array! As radiant Paradise, this poor demented world display! Move thou thy lips, make play the ripples light of Kevser’s pool! Let loose thy scented locks, and odors sweet through earth convey! A musky warrant by thy down was traced, and zephyr charged: “Speed, with this scent subdue the realms of China and Cathay!” O heart! should not thy portion be the Water bright of Life, A thousand times mayst thou pursue Iskender’s darksome way. O Zeyneb, woman’s love of earthly show leave thou behind; Go manly forth, with single heart, forsake adornment gay! _Zeyneb._ GAZEL ‘Ah! thine eyes lay waste the heart, they ’gainst the soul bare daggers dread; See how sanguinary gleam they--blood aye upon blood they shed. Come, the picture of thy down bear unto this my scorchèd breast-- It is customary fresh greens over the broiled flesh to spread. Said I: “O Life! since thy lip is life, to me vouchsafe a kiss.” Smiling rose-like, “Surely, surely, by my life,” she answerèd. As I weep sore, of my stainèd eyebrow and my tears of blood, “’Tis the rainbow o’er the shower stretched,” were by all beholders said. While within my heart thine eye’s shaft, send not to my breast despair; Idol mine! guest after guest must not to one same house be led. Through its grieving for thy hyacinth down, thus feeble grown Is the basil, that the gardeners nightly o’er it water shed. Quoth I: “O Life! do not shun Jem, he a pilgrim here hath come;” “Though a pilgrim, yet his life doth on a child’s face hang,” she said. _Prince Jem_ FRAGMENT