VII: Why scornest thou me, O fair one! who…

Why scornest thou me, O fair one! who so ill-favoured am?
'Tis destiny's doings that made me ungraceful; thee, lovely to behold!

Come once again, and upon the flowers cast thine eyes once more,
O zephyr of the morn! that thou mayest unclose the folded bud anew!

In thy absence, the rose would tear its own breast into a hundred shreds;
And the cypress, O charmer! from separation, would in tears dissolve.

Why, O rose! turnest thou thy face away from the lovelorn nightingale?
For even with these charms of thine, his wails have famous made thee.

When thou castest the fragrant aeud into the fire, it yieldeth more perfume;
And I will constancy increase, if thou thy injustice shouldst augment.

Thou art the sun of beauty, and all these other beauteous ones are stars:
They will into nothingness vanish, if thou shouldst show thy face.

Thou always designatest Aeabd-ul-Kadir as hypocrite and deceiver;
But mayest thou, elsewhere, a more sincere lover find than he!