Vol. 12

I say I love you — you go silent; you keep me at a distance from your warm heart; don't be angry; I saw you with rivals on the road; my rival has money, I am poor — in the end you will choose him.

You said: I will kiss you; I said: I wish it. You said: if a rival comes; I said: I will enchant him away. In the end: if I undo the chain of your love, you said — more mad than you, I will find.

With your fiery nature and sword-brow you shed my heart's blood; with gentle words and warm glance you burned my soul; at the rival's feast you danced like a wave — alas, alas, alas.

You do not understand my language, you do not see my glance; words lie sleeping in my eyes — my glance has a hundred languages; look once at my white hair, O dark-lashed one; you do not see my dark days.

Live here, die here — where else can one go? The world wears a thousand masks; the face changes but returns; heaven is here, hell is here — this is all there is, and it is enough.

No, never — the wine without you turns to poison; may my hand break if I embrace another; I carry love for you until death; you alone are my love — be faithful to your promise; in your love's path you will never see error from me.

I am banished from the tavern — flee from me. The speaker cast out even from the place of outsiders, warning the beloved away. A ruined house, a mountain flood, a destroyer of nests: self-description as hazard.

The arrow of your grief targets lovers' hearts — I seek you from house to house, from monastery to mosque; my purpose from the Kaaba and the idol-house is only you; I am not mad — I who go from house to house.