Another Love Poem

When will I be reunited with my angry beloved? And how can my heart escape the hand that plunders it? I think whoever shows no mercy to the lover when he weeps is treating this man robbed of his heart like a toy. I lost the time of union, and a person never knows the sweetness of life until misfortune strikes. My friend has turned away while affection still clings to me; my companion is gone, yet his image stays with me always. From this day on I will not see a friend blame me for loving you without turning aside from him. Away with you, blaming critics, off this young man captivated by the glances of full-bosomed beauties. I have destroyed myself by giving in to passion, though how often before I said: watch yourself, my soul. What I endure is most like the Day of Resurrection, and my flood of tears is like the scattering of the stars. When the turtledove sings at dawn it grieves me, for the loss of my loved ones it sounds like a crow's shriek. I see clouds in the sky raining pearls upon the garden, but upon me they rain stones. How long can my hope in him last when distance holds me back? And how can I endure without him when longing pulls me on? Who could long for paradise without you? Let hell be my dwelling, and you be the one who punishes me. Parting from a friend is hard on this fortunate one; blessed is the one who chooses the solitude of a hermit. This is a letter with no message after it; my pen has grown weary of describing my love.