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Then another monk recited the following verses:
O ye that with my soul have fled, on your unhappy swain Have pity and to his despair your blest returning deign.
They fared away and my repose departed after them; But still the sweetness of their speech doth in mine ears remain.
They’re distant, yea, and distant is their visitation-place: Would they’d vouchsafe, though but in dreams, their sight to us again!
When they departed hence, they took my heart with them and left Me all dissolved in floods of tears, that from mine eyes did rain.
A third monk followed with these lines:
Heart, eyes and ears to set thee in the highest room agree; For, lo, my heart and all of me’s a dwelling-place for thee.
Sweeter than honey in my mouth thy name is and thy thought Runs, as the vital spirit runs, in every rib of me.
Lean as a skewer hast thou made my frame for languishment; Yea, and thou’st drowned me with my tears in very passion’s sea.
Let me but look on thee in sleep; mayhap thy lovely sight Shall from the torment of my tears avail my cheeks to free.
Then a fourth recited the following verses:
Dumb is my tongue for sorrow; my speech of thee doth fail; Of passion comes my anguish, my sickness and my bale.
O thou full moon, whose place is in heaven, sore for thee Love-longing and distraction my spirit do assail.
And a fifth these:
I love a moon, shapely and slim and well-grown; Her waist of the weight of her buttocks makes moan.
Like the first pressed-out wine are the dews of her mouth And her lips to mankind for distraction are known.
My heart burns with passion; the lover lies slain, Midst the dark, whence the moon and its lustre are flown,
And his tears like the rains flow, nor ever run dry, For a cheek that is red as cornelian-stone.
