Yes, this is she indeed, the source of all my ill, For whom with long desire I languish at Love's will. Near her, I feel my soul on fire and bones worn waste For yearning after her that doth my heart fulfih
Then said he to Aboulhusn, 'Thou hadst dealt more kindly with me to have forewarned me of these things; that I might have prepared my mind and taken patience to support what hath befallen me ;' and he wept and groaned and complained. 'O my brother,' replied Aboulhusn, 'I meant thee nought but good; but I feared to tell thee of this, lest such transport should overcome thee as might hinder thee from foregathering with her and intervene between thee and her: but take courage and be of good heart, for she is well disposed to thee and inclineth to favour thee.' 'What is the lady's name?' asked Ali ben Bekkar. 'She is called Shemsennehar,' answered Aboulhusn 'she is one of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful Haroun er Reshid and this is the palace of the Khalifate.' Then Shemsennehar sat gazing upon Ali ben Bekkar's charms and he upon hers, till each was engrossed with love of the other. Presently, she commanded the damsels to sit; so they sat down, each in her place, on a couch before one of the windows, and she bade them sing; whereupon one of them took a lute and sang the following verses:
Twice be the message to my love made known, And take the answer from his lips alone. To thee, O monarch of the fair, I come And stand, of this my case to make my moan. O thou my sovereign, dear my heart and life, That in my inmost bosom hast thy throne, Prithee, bestow a kiss upon thy slave; If not as gift, then even as a loan. I will repay it, (mayst thou never fail!) Even as I took it, not a little gone. Or, if thou wish for more than thou didst lend, Take and content thee; it is all thine own. May health's fair garment ever gladden thee, Thee that o'er me the wede of woe hast thrown!
Her singing charmed Ali ben Bekkar, and he said to her, 'Sing me more of the like of these verses.' So she struck the strings and sang as follows:
By excess of estrangement, beloved mine, Thou hast taught long weeping unto my eyne. O joy of my sight and its desire, O goal of my hopes, my worship's shrine, Have pity on one, whose eyes are drowned In the sorrowful lover's tears of brine!