سندبادنامه 333.1

333.1

Whoever chooses love for you, / restlessness settles upon him.
The rose of your cheek in the hand of fantasy / pricks the eyes from sleep like a thorn.
If the painter of your countenance so desires, / he makes a hundred cities like Negar.
No wonder if the juggler of desire / opens wide four eyes with longing.
Do not keep me waiting, for fire and water / cannot do what waiting does.
All night long he waited for true dawn to shine forth from the eastern horizon,
and for the muezzin to raise the cry of 'Hasten to salvation!' and the rooster to raise the cry of 'Hasten to the morning!',
and all night he made this verse his constant recitation, saying: