Classic Poem

The Tulip is unrightly compared to her beauty;
The Musk of China is ashamed at the fragrance of her tresses;
Her black eyebrows are a bow, their lashes are arrows,
Every shaft amongst them has pierced the lover's heart.
Her two eyes in her body are as piercing swords,
Ever are they warring with the hearts of those that love her.
Thou wouldst call it a Negro selling sweets,
That mole of hers which is on the side of her lips.
The radiancy of her beauty is of a brilliant light;
The poor Lover as the moth that hovers round.
It is the earring that alone has ever touched her ear;
It is the clove that alone has ever touched her nose;
In her beauty there is no single point wanting,
Except that one defect is hers, that of stone is her heart.
Each one's struggles are after his particular object;
Khush-hal's design is on her beauty.