I remember that in my youth, I passed through a street and caught sight of a beautiful face, on a scorching summer day when the heat dried up the mouth and the hot wind boiled the marrow of the bones.
Due to human frailty, I could not bear the midday sun, so I sought refuge in the shadow of a wall, hoping that someone would take pity on me and quench the burning heat with a drink of cool water. Suddenly, from the darkness of a hallway, a light shone forth—a beauty whose radiance words could not describe, like the break of dawn in a dark night or the water of life emerging from the depths of darkness. She held a cup of snow-cooled water, sweetened with sugar and mixed with the scent of her sweat. I do not know if it was perfumed with rosewater or if a few drops of her rosy complexion had dripped into it.
In short, I took the cup from her delicate hands, drank, and it felt as if I had been given new life:
A thirst in my heart that cannot be quenched
Even by a drink of crystal water, nor if I drank oceans.
Blessed is the one whose fortune allows
Their eyes to behold such a face every morning.
The wine-drinker wakes at midnight still intoxicated,
While the wine-bearer intoxicates on Judgment Day at dawn.
