I behold a garden ready for reaping

I behold a garden ready for reaping,
  though I see no gardener’s hand reaching for it.
Woe is me! Youth elapses in waste,
  and the one I shall not name will remain alone.
Translated by Jonathan P. Decter.

Credits

CUL T-S NS 324.2. Reproduced by kind permission of the Syndics of Cambridge University Library.

Published in: The Posen Library of Jewish Culture and Civilization, vol. 3: Encountering Christianity and Islam.

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The theme of this brief Arabic poem is the loneliness of maidenhood.

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