Their abodes have become decayed

Their abodes have become decayed, but desire of them is ever new in my heart and decayeth not.
These tears are shed over their ruined dwellings, but souls are ever melted at the memory of them.
Through love of them I called out behind their riding-camels, 'O ye who are rich in beauty, here am I, a beggar!
I have rolled my cheek in the dust in tender and passionate affection: then, by the true love which I owe to you, I, do not make hopeless
One who is drowned in his tears and burned in the fire of sorrow with no respite!'
O thou who wouldst kindle a fire, be not hasty! Here is the fire of passion. Go and take of it!