The dawn breeze brought news of the crying rend:
He was all the night searching for the friend.
From bar to bar he stumbled with graphic speech;
No fool for long was beyond his wit’s reach!
The lover with long black hair he couldn’t find;
She was there teasing him, but he was blind.
Blind, blind drunk grasping for her in empty air,
Longing to run his fingers through her curly hair.
The scent of sandalwood was in his mind;
It is what the beloved wears when divine.
With wild and bloodshot eyes he looks for her;
He doesn’t care the world is a passing blur.
This dawn, the sound of the moaning lover,
Told darvish the rend’s pain wasn’t over.
