Arab Andalusian
1067 – 1134
Though its heart was all aflame.
Yet it never knew that same
Grief of parting, and that woe
Sundered lovers know.
When the lightning of the wine
Bathed the drinkers in its shine,
What a brave cloud billowed thence
Sweet with frankincense!
Never saw I, all my days,
Such a conflagration blaze
To persuade the revellers
Paradise was theirs.
