In the Bey’s Garden

In the Bey’s Garden
Three roses are in the garden of the old Bey’s house.
Three roses and the fourth bud have bloomed.
Customs my heart knows not, it knows not where to go!
Passing by there, my gaze was lured away.
The bud has turned into a maiden.
Beside the garden when I pass, she unbinds her tresses.
The black hair that God has created for her.
The heart knows neither fences nor customs!
With a glance she returns my look and calls with her eyes.
But I heard she is promised to another.
With fire my heart burns!
I did not believe until she told me herself.
My heart remains in sorrow.
To look at the garden without the bud.
Why did her father give her to another?
To fate, must I have surrendered.