Love the phoenix cannot be trapped
nor in heaven or earth can it be named;

no one has yet discovered its address:
its desert holds not a single footprint.

The world drains the last drops from its cup
though itself it is not outside the glass;

dawn and dusk I caress its face, its tresses,
though where it is no day or night exists.

Morning-breeze, if you pass its lane
I have no message for it but this:

My repose, who are my very life, without you
I can take no single breath at ease.

Everyone in this world wants something, but I
have no desire at all -- except your lips;

from the moment my heart first fell into your locks
I've busied myself with nothing but lassos and snares.

How lucky to have a friend like you here below
(or Above)... The enemy hasn't a chance!

Inaugurate a romance then with 'Iraqi
even though he's unowrthy of such a boon.