In honor of Tu B’Shavat, we present this work by one of Arab Andalusia’s greatest Jewish poets.
Into my eyes he lovingly looked,
My arms about his neck were twined,
And in the mirror of my eyes,
What but his image did he find?
Upon my dark-hued eyes he pressed
His lips with breath of passion rare.
The rogue! ‘Twas not my eyes he kissed;
He kissed his picture mirrored there.