Star to Star

The fate of lovers is indeed strange, sometimes slightly stupid

But haven’t you been hit by those red arrows of cupid?

I’m jealous of the cup when it kisses her lips as she drinks from the corner

Come pour me some wine, and sing for me

A song for the Morning Breeze emanating from Venus’s violin

I feel palpitations in my heart thanks to the stringing lips uttering her name in musical bands

How can we not envy precious clothes permitted to touch her soft hands

And those elders who got to playfully whisper in her ears whatever was golden to choose

May God bless her Mother and Father with no prayer that He might refuse

Divine Love bears such secrets of wisdom

I have strung ropes from minaret to steeple;

Golden laurels from room to room;

Silver chains from star to star,

and I weep

Angels Prostrating In Pairs