Thy features every vision of my sleep adorn,
And when I wake the eyelash of my eyes adorn.
Thy willing slave, devoted am I e’er to thee,
Thou mayest slay me, yet such death is life to me.
Thou art the sweetest flower that ever grew for me.
Thy breath the fragrance of the rose does seem to me.
Thou art the gleaming star that lights the dark for me.
Thy features every vision of my sleep adorn,
And when I wake the eyelash of my eyes adorn.
Thy slender waist’s a graceful aloe branch to me.
The girdle round it twined a rainbow seems to me.
Thy sparkling eyes dark flashing lightning seem to me.
Thy snow-white bosom is a realm of bliss to me!
The echo of thy voice is music sweet to me.
Thy features every vision of my sleep adorn,
And when I wake the eyelash of my eyes adorn.
My ways in life so manifold all lead to thee!
Before my every thought and dream thy face I see!
What makes my heart a flaming ball? O it is thee!
Let me in one long kiss draw thy whole soul to me!
The very essence of my joy thou art to me.
Thy features every vision of my sleep adorn,
And when I wake the eyelash of my eyes adorn.
In Ortachala thou canst see, dear, what I am:
A gallant knight of wondrous strength and might I am;
The champion in every contest fair I am.
With bowl in hand a tamada of skill I am.
O wouldst thou come and see but once how brave I am
And then perhaps thou’lt say how bold and dear I am-
Thy features every vision of my sleep adorn,
And when I wake the eyelash of my eyes adorn.
