His honey-dew of lips is like the grateful water draught * Would cool me when a fire in heart upflameth fierce and high: How shall I give him up who is my heart and soul of me, * My malady my wasting cause, my love, sole leach of me?"
Then, as the glooms of night closed around her, her yearning increased and she called to mind the past and recited also these couplets,
"'Tis dark: my transport and unease now gather might and main, * And love-desire provoketh me to wake my wonted pain: The pang of parting takes for ever place within my breast, * And pining makes me desolate in destitution lain. Ecstasy sore maltreats my soul and yearning burns my sprite, * And tears betray love's secresy which I would lief contain: I weet no way, I know no case that can make light my load, * Or heal my wasting body or cast out from me this bane. A hell of fire is in my heart upflames with lambent tongue * And Laza's furnace-fires within my liver place have ta'en. O thou, exaggerating blame for what befel, enough * I bear with patience whatsoe'er hath writ for me the Pen! I swear, by Allah, ne'er to find aught comfort for their loss; * 'Tis oath of passion's children and their oaths are ne'er in vain. O Night! Salams of me to friends and let to them be known * Of thee true knowledge how I wake and waking ever wone."
Meanwhile, the hermit said to Uns al-Wujud, "Go down to the palm-grove in the valley and fetch some fibre." [FN#56] So he went and returned with the palm-fibre, which the hermit took and, twisting into ropes, make therewith a net, [FN#57] such as is used for carrying straw; after which he said, "O Uns al-Wujud, in the heart of the valley groweth a gourd, which springeth up and drieth upon its roots. Go down there and fill this sack therewith; then tie it together and, casting it into the water, embark thereon and make for the midst of the sea, so haply thou shalt win thy wish; for whoso never ventureth shall not have what he seeketh." "I hear
