An excerpt from a play, not yet published, by the poet Youssef al-Khal

Herodias:

Anoint me with perfume, Tamar — in my body there is a wedding feast

and in my ribs a hum of merriment;

and here, in my braids, the night kept its vigil

and the morning wandered lovestruck behind my veil;

and strew over my bed clusters of roses

and pour the wines into my cups:

this is a night that surpasses my nights,

rising above delight that is allowed —

in my embrace, in the swaying of my sides,

in the warmth of my rapture and my yearning...

For I sway drunken at the foot of desire

in abjection, with lowered wing.

Anoint me, Tamar... for perfume in the veins

has the course of joy in souls;

and leave me to love — a flock of butterflies

fluttering upon the cheeks of the daisies,

and a favor wherein the soul has reveled

and bathed, like rapture in wine:

so my wiles shall be, to Herod, a shadow

in the evening and a star in the morning,

and existence pass away in a burning tremor

upon the blaze of an insistent kiss...

Tamar:

May the perfumes of the land of Lebanon be your ransom,

and of every verdant garden:

a lily that let its wrap slip in the morning

and lay bare upon the bed of light,

winking at the sun whenever it looked upon it

and tugging at the breeze in temptation;

and virgin daisies bathed in light,

swaying before it in pride,

setting out with coquettish steps, till the earth

was a dewy shimmer and a procession of loveliness;

and an anemone whose cheek bled with longing,

so it wrapped itself in a robe of red

and bent its neck upon the soul's honor

and let its tears flow in proud disdain;

and lavender, as though...

Herodias — Enough, Tamar!

Heap more perfumes upon my tresses:

had Eve, in Adam's day, my power to tempt,

my longing to range the open field,

my seizing of what God's law forbids

as lawful, crowned with high honors?

Had Sarai a share of what my self was given,

while my favor dictates its terms to time?

Had Rachel the flush of love that is in my heart,

the brocade of youth in my beauty,

my outracing the roses to the light at dawn

with fresh loveliness and lawful fragrance?

Had Esther my splendor — the sun turning back

before my countenance, the magic of my majesty,

and kings bowing captive to a fingertip

that desire has schooled in humbling?

Had Jezebel the interloper anything

of the virgin's disdain in my advance,

of my loftiness — as though the world were created

by my right hand, and a gift of my left?

Tamar:

No, by my Lord...

Herodias — Had Solomon seen me,

would not his heart have gone mad for my charms,

and he drawn near, humbled, kissing the ground

where I trod, and the shadow of my sandals?

No Shulammite would claim his love after me,

nor the thousand daughters of the court;

he would sing verse inspired as revelation,

singular as a passing fancy of my mind...