Go forth, my comrades, draw along our beloved, at last bring to me the fugitive idol;
With sweet melodies and golden pretexts draw to the house that moon sweet of presence.
And if he promises, “I will come in another moment,” all his promises are but cunning to beguile you.
He possesses a flaming breath, by enchantment and wizardry knotting the water and tying up the air.
When in blessedness and joy my darling enters, sit you down and behold the marvels of God!
When his beauty shines forth, what shall be the beauty of the comely ones? For his sun-bright face extinguishes all lamps.
Go, fleet-paced heart, to Yemen, to my heart’s beloved, convey my greetings and service to that ruby beyond price.
