In hours of quiet solitude,
My heart brings forth your visage,
Of a dearly loved companion,
Like a prayer or like a yearning.
I am sometimes full of gratitude,
As I face my personal kaaba,
Sometimes pour out my sorrows,
And sit before you sobbing,
When I sit in a state of beatitude,
Your magical glance adorns me,
With comfort and consoling,
And a calming Grace descending.
You seem to speak of fortitude,
Yet gently and with love,
Your shade of true perceptions
Is love I see glimmering.
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