My eyes have lost their lustre and grown dull, and my fingers have worn away for counting of the days that I have noted on the wall.67

What if I forget today, my maid? My beauty hath already left me and my bracelet hath slipped off my arm.

He parted from me longing for conquests: and if I live yet, it is for the longing of his return.

He gave my company up and parted without any regard to my feelings but yet for the mere thinking of his speedy return my heart swelleth with joy!

Only let my eyes take their fill of the sight of my beloved: pallor will then no more be seen on my wasted arm.

Let my spouse but return home: and then in one day I shall drink the nectar of his presence and bid farewell to this wasting disease.

When the beloved who is dear even as my eyes cometh home, shall I sulk for his long absence? or shall I embrace him? or shall I do both?

May the prince begin the battle at once and triumph! And may I return in the evening and feast at home with my loved one!

To those who count the days and yearn for the return of the beloved who is away, one single day will creep along with the slowness of seven.

Of what avail will be my getting back or the meeting or even the hearty embrace, if the heart of my loved one be broken before then?