I have heard that you are intending to journey; do not. That you give your love to another friend and companion; do not.
You are a stranger in the world; why do you estrange yourself? What heart-wounded victim are you aiming at? Do not.
Do not steal yourself from us, do not go to strangers. You are steathily glancing at the others; do not.
Moon for whom the heavens are topsy-turvy, you waste us and turn us topsy-turvy; do not.
What promise do you make and what oath do you swear? You make a shield of oaths and blandishments; do not.
Where are the pledge and compact you made to your servant? You depart from your pledge and word; do not.
You whose court is higher than being and not being, you are transgressing the bound of being; do not.
You at whose command hell and heaven are slaves, you make paradise like Gehenna to me; do not.
In your sugarcane plot we are secure from poison; you are commingling that poison with the sugar; do not.
My soul is like a fiery furnace; is that not enough for you? Through absence you are making my face pale as gold; do not.
When you withdraw your face, the moon is darkened with grief; you are intending the eclipse of the moon’s orb; do not.
Our lips become dry when you bring a draft: why are you wetting my eyes with tears? Do not.
Since you cannot endure the shackling of lovers, why then do you dazzle the eye of reason? Do not.
You do not give sweetmeats to one sick of a fever; you hurt still more him whose sickness you are; do not.
My lawless eye is the thief of your beauty. Beloved, you requite the thievish eye; do not.
Withdraw, comrade, for it is no time for speech. Why do you thrust yourself forward in the bewilderment of love? Do not.
