Moon-faced

Will I wait for you again, oh moonlight?
She left without giving hope for a date.
Carried away the peace, I must not see
Until the Last Judgment. O Judgment Day, come!
Blow, oh breeze, and from her doorstep
Bring me a speck of dust! Consolation at least a little.
Look, my cypress is alone, or is someone with her?
Fly to her flower garden and come back quickly!
Alas, like her, and you are in a distant land,
And you forgot me. I don’t know if you’ll come back.
But I know that she will not come back again.
It remains only to appeal to the Almighty Khosrov.

Dehlavi