Hand in Hand Thy Mole Hath Plotted

Hand in hand thy mole hath plotted with thy hair,
Many hearts made captive have they in their snare.

Thou in nature art an angel whom the Lord
In His might the human form hath caused to wear.

When He dealt out 'mongst His creatures union's tray,
Absence from thee, God to me gave as my share.

Thou would'st deem that Power, the limner, for thy brows,
O'er the lights, thine eyes, two nuns had painted fair.

O Selîmî, on the sweetheart's cheek the down
Is thy sighs' fume, which, alas, hath rested there.