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Tyrannical Love, you goad me and give me no rest.
My heart’s pride matches your arrogance. Your scorn
tramples my heart. But whatever the pain, my heart
stays faithful.
My heart is a mirror, shattered by desire.
Heaven, don’t pity me: admire this proud soul.
Although I’ve banged my head in sorrow, it’s
never been bowed.
You think that chasing desire is easy? Fun?
My heart is tired and my feet are sore, but
I keep on searching. My goal: to arrive at
the kingdom of peace.
Makhfi, look up from your desolate darkness:
The army of sorrow is fleeing. Dawn arrives.
Despair disappears, banished by miraculous
arrows of prayer.
