ای ساربان آهسته ران

O camel driver, ride slowly — the comfort of my soul departs And that heart I carried with me departs with my heart's thief

I am left abandoned by her, helpless and aching from her absence As if a sting, far from her, were working through my bones

Hold the litter, camel driver — do not hurry the caravan For love of that moving cypress, my very soul, it seems, departs

She goes, trailing her skirt; I taste the poison of solitude Ask me for no sign of her — the very trace of her leaves my heart