You hope for healing from eyes themselves diseased—
Have you ever heard of healing coming from harm?

You who wear yourself out pursuing one most vile in character,
For a stolen trace of beauty he possesses;

You who foolishly give your life to such pursuits—
Had you known its worth, you would not have given it away;

You who sell a happy life beyond all price
For a phantom life snatched from amid suffering:

By Allah, you have been grievously cheated!
Could you undo this bargain, you would neither lose nor fail.

You seek the clear waters of a life wholly muddied,
While ahead of you lies a truly clear spring, no illusion.

You gather wood by night in the darkness, exposing yourself
To every calamity that draws you close to ruin.

Youth itself has grown grey, yet your youthful folly has not;
Your time has been squandered in diversion and play.

The sun of your life is now about to set,
Though the glow on the eastern horizon has not yet faded.

Those who have won reunion have triumphed,
And night’s darkness and clouds have cleared from their horizon.

How long will you lag behind, when this world has departed
And your Lord’s messengers have come to summon you?

Once the caravans of those you love have left,
These dwellings offer the lovesick neither repose nor purpose.

Lay your cheek upon that dust, and say
What the yearning lover said in ages past:

Mayyah’s dwelling, ringed about, where Ghaylān wanders,
Is no dearer to him than your ruined dwelling is to me.

Nor are cheeks, however crimson their hue,
Dearer to my eyes than your dust-covered cheek.

Dwellings he once loved and knew so well,
In days when reunion lay close at hand:

Whenever those dwellings came into view,
He would rush toward them like water down a slope.

Memories of the days spent there revived his longing;
Had he called his heart to forget, it would not have answered.

Though many a dwelling on earth is familiar to him,
Never does he desire any but those.

No kindred lover in these tents can comfort you
When you confide something of your love—so depart.

Travel through the depths of night, guided
By a waft of fragrance, not by fire and wood.

Oppose everyone given to cowardice and helplessness;
Fight your own soul, lest it plunge you into war.

Secure a light for yourself by which to see
On the day when people receive light according to their ranks.

For the bridge is shrouded in darkness; none crosses it
Except with a light that saves the servant in his distress.

The point is that excessive looking is the root of affliction.