In Absence
Thy absence, love, torments me with the pains of Iblis' fire,
I am drunken with the burning wine, the wine of my desire.
My heart is empty for thee; what are my songs but sighs?
My lips are lacking thine, and the lashes of my eyes
Have sworn they will not meet until thou stand in sight of me, —
Remember, O beloved, and reward my constancy.
I am drunken with the burning wine, the wine of my desire.
My heart is empty for thee; what are my songs but sighs?
My lips are lacking thine, and the lashes of my eyes
Have sworn they will not meet until thou stand in sight of me, —
Remember, O beloved, and reward my constancy.
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