“By those jasmine-scented locks, (each curl of which is a chain on my fascinated heart) I swear, that since my blood-shot eyes have been deprived of beholding the garden of thy spring-enchanting countenance, my whole body, like the tulip, is drowned in blood, and from the profusion of my tears I am become the rival of the waters of Ummaun and the streams of Jihon. The zephyr can testify, and the stars have seen, how the rose-bud hath smiled every morning on the sorrows of my heart, and every night what tears the air hath shed over my forlorn condition.

“If the explorers of the traditions of the world, drawing forth from the records of time the history of Perveez, and the adventures of Mujjenou, should com­pare their situation with mine, they would see that their troubles were but as a slight specimen of mine. Without exaggeration, the sorrow, which during these few days of absence has afflicted me sad wanderer in the troublous path of love and bewildered in the perilous desart of search, was not even in a slight degree experienced by Khoosroo in his passion for Shereen, from the beginning to the end; nor by Mujjenou, during his whole life of abode in the wilderness from love of the beautiful Leila.

“I never could have supposed that my fascinating nergus, assuming an averted look, would thus take delight in punish­ing me guiltless. If the source of all this coyness and unkindness is an event which occurred by the divine decree, it cannot be justified; for such circum­stances should have no weight in the scale of mutual confidence, since they are not a deviation from the rules of love, nor can make any breach in the foundations of regard. The heart which is the world-reflecting mirror of thy love, cannot possibly retain the image of any meaner charmer; nor is my attachment so slightly secured under the seal of thy powerful sway, that another should be able to overcome it.

“On every account, knowing that lovers have no resource but submission, I esteem my innocence as guilt, and have seated myself with a thousand regrets on the highway of apology. I have washed the characters of self-boasting from the tablet of my heart with my tears.

“Now, our mutual welfare demands, that on the receipt of this letter, (every character of which, like the wing of the moth, and every sentence of which, like a grain of suppund, is scorched with the fire of my bosom) not contesting for explanation, thou shouldst refrain from anger; and, casting off the manners of resentment and wrath, delight me with the view of thy cedar-ensnaring coun­tenance.

“Come then, and behold how, from desire of seeing thee, I have become withered as the fading grass, and, from longing to meet thee, thin as the fibres of the reed. By thy head I swear, that should the web of the spider weave round my body, I should be impotent as the fly; and should an ant fasten on my foot, such is my weakness, I could not cast it off. Except by speech, you would not recognize me from the breeze; nor, but by its motion, distinguish my person from the dust.

“What more can he write with his sorrowful pen, which, from the gloom of his heart, is become black as thy dark tresses?”