| O my sire, I am lord of all lere man knows or knew-- * Have enformed my vitals with lore and with legend true; |
| Nor cease I repeat what knowledge this memory guards * And my writ as ruby and pearl doth appear to view." |
| "And what shall, O Shaykh, to us fall forthright?" * Quoth he, "Sore marvels shall meet your sight: |
| No heart have I to describe it you." * Then approached Habib the same tutor-wight; |
| And clasping the youth to the breast of him, * Kissed his cheek a-shrieking the shrillest shright. [FN#388] |
| "Indeed I am scourged by those ills whereof I felt affray, ah! * By parting and thoughts which oft compellèd my soul to say, 'Ah!' |
| Oh saddest regret in vitals of me that ne'er ceaseth, nor * Shall minished be his love that still on my heart doth prey, ah! |
| Where hath hied the generous soul my mind with lere adorned? * And alas! what hath happened, O sire, to me, and well-away, ah!" |
| "Indeed this pine in my heart grows high, * And in eyeballs wake doth my sleep outvie: |
| You marched, O my lords, and from me hied far * And you left a lover shall aye outcry: |
| I wot not where on this earth you be * And how long this patience when none is nigh: |
| Ye fared and my eyeballs your absence weep, * And my frame is meagre, my heart is dry." |
| "Thou hast doomed me, O branchlet of Bán, to despair * Who in worship and honour was wont to fare,-- |
| Who lived in rule and folk slaved for me * And hosts girded me round every hest to bear!" |
| "My heart is straitened with grief amain * And my friends and familiars have wrought me pain; |
| And whene'er you're absent I pine, and fires * In my heart beweep what it bears of bane: |
| O ye, who fare for the tribe's domain, * Cry aloud my greetings to friends so fain!" |
| My longing grows less and far goes my cark * After flamed my heart with the love-fire stark; |
| As I ride to search for my soul's desire * And I ask of those faring to Al-Irák." |
| "Faileth me, O my God, the patience with the pride o' me; * Life-tie is broke and drawing nigh I see Death-tide o' me: |
| To whom shall injured man complain of injury and wrong * Save to the Lord (of Lords the Best!) who stands by side o'me." |
| "Travel, for on the way all goodly things shalt find; * And wake from sleep and dreams if still to sleep inclined! |
| Or victory win and rise and raise thee highmost high * And gain, O giddy pate, the food for which thy soul hath pined; |
| Or into sorrow thou shalt fall with breast full strait * And ne'er enjoy the Fame that wooes the gen'rous mind, |
| Nor is there any shall avail to hinder Fate * Except the Lord of Worlds who the Two Beings [FN#416] designed." |
| "At him I wonder who from woe is free, * And who no joy displays [FN#419] when safe is he: |
| And I admire how Time deludes man when * He views the past; but ah, Time's tyranny." |
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