The Poet Ibn Zayduns' Imprisonment

Pale moon reflects your lips
Majnun was outcast by one such as you
But there is no blame that may be bound to you
As the blame was not with her, Layli
If the heart is so fragile a thing
It may turn to ashes at a touch
Or the prohibition of such

It is not that your flesh is a sweeter lure
It is not that your mind is a receptacle
More fitting for thoughts abhorent or pure
It is not that you turn to me
Only to greater fly away
My midnight owl
my phantom of love

It is not that you are without twin
And cannot bear to stand beside anyone or anything
That upon the scales you rise and rise
And cannot help but rise
Whilst I am here
Shackled beneath your eyes
Brand me with the hexagon
For I am a slave to you

There is but one sun
And it shines most delightfully
In the unveiling of your face
It is so that your beauty unveils the sun
For it gazes on nothing so clearly
Upon your forehead and your throat
And your shoulder
Upon your thighs
Which are as a flowing river
To drink from
Has lead me here
Embraced by chains
And this prison, vulgar
A filter for profanity...

(For the Andalusian poet Abu al-Waleed Ahmad Ibn Zaydun al-Makhzumi  (1003-71)