As for those
Who are so evil, we will spare them now.
The barrel of this gun is rusted red.
The lock is forceless, 'twill no longer act.
Misfortune overtake the man who leaves
His child to perish! For the least of things
He says to me, "Come, give me up this gun."
I go to seek the desert. I will go
Among the tribe they call Oulad Azyz,
And live by force. But, pray you say to her,
The fair one with the deftly braided hair,
I leave the tribe, but shall return for her.
I disappear, but shall come back for her.
And while I live, I never shall forget.
I swear it by the head of that sweet one
Who for the sake of Ali was accused.
The cup of passion which I offered her
O'ercame her lovely spirit's tenderness.
The cup of love intoxicated her.
O God, Creator of us all, give her
The strength to bear my absence! Sad for me
The hour I dream of her I love so well.
Her love is in my heart and burns it up.
My heart is sad. 'Tis love that crushes it.
It leaves my heart reduced to naught but dust.
So that I am consumed by vigils long,
And never taste refreshing sleep at all.
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