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Then Ali ben Bekkar drank off his cup and returned it to Shemsennehar. She filled it again and gave it to Aboulhusn, who drank it off. Then she took the lute, saying, ‘None shall sing over my cup but myself.’ So she tuned the strings and sang these verses:
The hurrying tears upon his cheeks course down from either eye, For very passion, and love’s fires within his heart flame high.
He weeps whilst near to those he loves, for fear lest they depart: So, whether near or far they be, his tears are never dry.
And again:
Our lives for thee, O cupbearer, O thou whom beauty’s self From the bright parting of thy hair doth to the feet army!
The full moon[1] from thy collar-folds rises, the Pleiades[2] Shine from thy mouth and in thine hands there beams the sun of day.[3]
I trow, the goblets wherewithal thou mak’st us drunk are those Thou pourest to us from thine eyes, that lead the wit astray.
Is it no wonder that thou art a moon for ever full And that thy lovers ’tis, not thou, that wane and waste away?
Art thou a god, that thou, indeed, by favouring whom thou wilt And slighting others, canst at once bring back to life and slay?
God moulded beauty from thy form and eke perfumed the breeze With the sheer sweetness of the scent that cleaves to thee alway.
None of the people of this world, an angel sure thou art, Whom thy Creator hath sent down, to hearten our dismay.
When Ali and Aboulhusn and the bystanders heard Shemsennehar’s song, they were transported and laughed and sported; but while they were thus engaged, up came a damsel, trembling for fear, and said, ‘O my lady, Afif and Mesrour and Merjan and others of the Commander of the Faithful’s eunuchs, whom I know not, are at the door.’ When they heard this they were like to die of fright, but Shemsennehar laughed and said, ‘Have no fear.’ Then said she to the damsel, ‘Hold them in parley, whilst we remove hence.’ And she caused shut the doors of the alcove upon Ali and Aboulhusn and drew the curtains over
