I wonder at the sun — who was it frightened her,

that she took shelter in the clouds, veiled in twilight?!

And the green hills — who was it stripped them

of a mantle bewitching as brocade?!

And the brooks — who, do you think, made them thirst

for the wine of the brimming stream?!

The universe fell mute... and my heart is mute

since its sun vanished from my horizon,

lamenting the fortune that left me thirsting

in an ocean watered with flattery.

All around me is an autumn unveiled,

and at my side an autumn concealed;

my soul has withered in it, even as

the leaves of the trees withered yesterday.

In eternity's keeping, O flowers of the hills,

with the greetings of the fragrant breeze,

and a farewell of longing from a poetess

who, after you, has bidden the magic of splendor goodbye.

Fear not, O flowers, a cruel downpour;

bear up under the reckless drizzle;

and consider: to vanish for a season

is but the vanishing of the radiant star —

tomorrow the birds will welcome the fragrance

that is yours, on every shining morning.

Oh, the glad tidings of my heart after tomorrow!

Oh, the birds' reward after long forbearance!

We shall watch for the flowers, both of us, and for hope,

and sing to the awaited spring.

- Iraq -