The Moon Of Love

O Shah, I am the slave of thy desire, Dust of thy throne, ascending foot am I; Whatever thou desirest I would do, But sicken of my own incompetence; Not in the hand of my infirmer will To carry into deed mine own desire. Time upon time I torture mine own soul, Devising liberation from the snare I languish in. But when upon that moon I think, my soul relapses; and when look-- I leave both worlds behind to follow her!