I remember that in my youth I was passing through a street and my gaze fell upon a face, in a summer whose heat dried the mouth and whose hot winds boiled the marrow of the bones.

Due to human weakness, I could not bear the heat of the midday sun and took refuge in the shade of a wall, waiting for someone to relieve me from the summer heat with water. Suddenly, a light shone from the darkness of a house's vestibule, meaning a beauty that the eloquent tongue is unable to describe its splendor, as if morning had risen in a dark night or the water of life had emerged from darkness, with a cup of iced water in hand, sugar poured into it and mixed with sweat, I do not know if he had perfumed it with rosewater or a few drops from the flower of his face had dripped into it.

A thirst in my heart that almost no amount can quench

Even the taste of pure water, even if I drank oceans.

Blessed is that auspiciously born person whose eyes

Fall upon such a face every morning.

The wine drunkard awakens at midnight

The drunk from the cupbearer (beloved) on the Day of Judgment at dawn.