Page:The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night, Vol 8.djvu/47

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35

The nights of our delight are gone from us; estrangement’s dark Hath quenched their radiance and made an end of all our glee.
God’s blessing on the bygone days! How glad indeed they were, When in the gardens of desire their blossoms gathered we!
We would have had them stay; but God denied the wished-for boon; Only their rose and our true hearts to last permitted He.
Will the returning days renew our union? An they do, Their every vow unto my Lord accomplished then shall be.
Think, in His hand, who writes upon the table of the brows Their lines,[1] are all things, and submit to that He doth decree.

Then she wept sore and returned to the house, lamenting and recalling what had passed and saying, ‘Glory be to God who hath decreed this to us!’ And her affliction redoubled for the loss of her beloved and her departure from the lands, and she recited these verses:

Upon thee be the peace of God, O empty house! Ah me, The days indeed have made an end of all their cheer in thee!
Dove of the house, ne’er mayst thou leave to mourn for her who from Her moons and her full moons[2] is torn by Fate’s unkind decree!
Harkye, Mesrour! Make thou thy moan for loss of us; indeed Mine eyes in losing thee have lost their lustre, verily.
Would God thine eyes our parting day and eke the flaming fire, That in my heart redoubles still unquenchably, might see!
Forget not thou our plighted troth within the garden’s shade, That held our loves and with its veils encurtained thee and me.

Then she presented herself before her husband, who set her in the litter he had let make for her; and when she found herself on the camel’s back, she recited the following verses:

God’s peace on thee, O lonely house, for evermore alight, Wherein whilere we fed our fill of solace and delight!
Would that my time within thy shade its nights accomplished had, So I for passion had been slain, a martyr in Love’s right!

  1. The Arabs believe that each man’s destiny is written in the sutures of his skull, could we but read it.
  2. i.e. her moon-faced beloved ones.