Ghazal 7

Her deadly, playful glance shoots its arrow at me. My friends, what plan do you have for me in this affliction? I am not a madman who will listen to advice. Spare me the old man's counsel; tell my aging father to keep it. It is just me and my nightlong wailing, in the state I am in. When will anyone come to answer my midnight cry? My idol, love for you will only leave me with my life itself, for the grief of your love sank into me with my mother's milk. Unless the chain of your curling hair binds me for a moment, no chain in this whole city could hold me. They showed me the ring of your hair in a dream. What can that dream mean for me but confusion and despair?