Oh one from whose lashes I suffered,
The difference, tell, between a look and a look.

A look revives the soul of the dead,
And a look breaks the heart, though a rock.

And a look prevents you, if strayed,
In a second issues to the heart its command.

And a look warmly welcomes your arrival,
A look holds threats, refusal and restraint.

A look engages you, if seen, distracts,
A look from which your soul returns, sorrowed.

Or content, says approach, you are without sin,
Or angered, says your sins are great.

Or that which shatters your heart,
Or that by which sorcery you thwart.

Or lying, deceiving you, causes torment,
Or honest, your heart in a moment attracts.

For fear of blamers, with eyes I complained,
Of she who exhausted me, wilful, deceptive.

Came her response, from her eyes I sensed,
How she of blamers is aware.

From anguish and woe of solitude, I shed,
Tears of yearning, one after another.

Apology from her a look, I wished to be,
For that look, between her eyes and chest.

For her eyes I concealed and kept silent,
She felt my pains, I trusted her regrets.