So that I'm like a bird with broken wings,
Just like a bird who tries to lift its wings!
And so my spirit is not healed. There comes
To me no comfort nor relief. The eyes
Of my beloved are as bright as day.
One word from her would send the friends to death.
IN HONOR OF LALLA AYCHA-EL-MANNOUBYYA
A fire burns at the bottom of my heart,
For love has conquered me, and I am now
His hostage and his prisoner. My soul
Is torn out from my body, and sweet sleep
Keeps far aloof from my tired eyelids' need.
'Tis Aycha causes this, the pretty one.
With blackest eyes, Aycha the pure, from whom
I'm parted now, whose name is finest gold.
Why? why? Oh, tell me, El Mannoubyya.
Why all this coldness, O my best beloved?
For thy dear love I have drunk deep of scorn.
For thy love, maiden with the darksome looks,
I wither while thou bear'st a port of oak.
The fire that burns me eats my very soul.
My spirit is distracted by these proofs.
O thou, rebellious to my warm desires,
My black-eyed beauty, if thou'rt vexed with me
I'll make apology before the world,
I'll bring an offering to thee at once,
The symbol of my homage.
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