OH that beloved one, who has seen her like? For when she reached her fourteenth year she was like the moon in beauty—a moon of fourteen days. Beauty shall I call it? or the woe of hearts, the robber of patience, and the strength of life? Her form was like the cypress by the margin of a brook, and Valeh's eyes were like the still waters which hold its image. Her face shone forth from her hair like morning out of night: the sun was a prisoner in the snare of her locks. What shall I say of the morning of her brows? Of that great splendour what shall I say? The whole world has not the like of her two eyebrows for hearts' enchantment —and from her eyelashes, when she was merry, a two-edged sword was flashed at your soul; and when she smiled her teeth and lips were as the shining evening-glow set with stars; and when she laughed her mouth was as the bud of a red rose in which a white rose is hidden. I saw the white ear below the curtain of her locks, and I said, “Morning has come and kissed the night.”

Wherever she moved she made captive the hearts of men; and her finger tips were red as a tiger's with blood* ; and ever from the light of her breast her heart shone forth like a jewel shining in clear water.

Such was Hadijeh; and night and day those two were burning in a sevenfold furnace. And when the flower was in Valeh's hand and the wine in the cup, suddenly the frost of the world withered the flower and the stone of fate shattered the glass.