| Like silver torrents flow thy words to me |
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| Even in the Kaaba courts my heart was moved |
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| Thou shouldst have given to me the robe and crown |
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| O Tyrannous One, when from my heart was drawn |
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| Each morn I see the Sun in majesty |
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| What thou hast done, never an enemy |
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| If I behold her, I am mad |
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| I, like a poor fakir |
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| False is she, breaker of all promises |
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| I met you and the pain of separation was forgot |
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