Lover, when parted from the thing he loves, ✿ Has naught save weary woe and bane to bear. Inside is sickness, outside living lowe, ✿ His first is fancy and his last despair.
When his sister heard this, she marvelled at his eloquence and loquent speech and his readiness at answering her in verse and said to him, “O my brother, when didst thou fall into this thy case and what hath betided thee, that I find thee speaking in song and shedding tears that throng? Allah upon thee, O my brother, and by the honest love which is between us, tell me what aileth thee and discover to me thy secret, nor conceal from me aught of that which hath befallen thee in our absence; for my breast is straitened and my life is troubled because of thee.” He sighed and railed tears like rain, after which he said, “I fear, O my sister, if I tell thee, that thou wilt not aid me to win my wish but wilt leave me to die wretchedly in mine anguish.” She replied, “No, by Allah, O my brother, I will not abandon thee, though it cost me my life!” So he told her all that had befallen him, and that the cause of his distress and affliction was the passion he had conceived for the young lady whom he had seen when he opened the forbidden door; and how he had not tasted meat nor drink for ten days past. Then he wept with sore weeping and recited these couplets:—
Restore my heart as ’twas within my breast, ✿ Let mine eyes sleep again, then fly fro’ me. Deem ye the nights have had the might to change ✿ Love’s vow? Who changeth may he never be!