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In the thunderous call of Laila's might, She seeks not plea, but a roaring right. This vow I make, in nuptial array, But Majnu from this town, must now stray. The stones in this city lie weary and worn, Those who strike you, Majnu, forlorn and torn. Youthful flesh bestowed, but heart I keep tight, Qaiss, alive in name, henceforth in sight. But swear that any who dare my bonds to touch, Shall reap earth's dust, forsaking such clutch. When blooms adorn my grave by God's own decree, When God descends to Earth, then shall we see.

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