The Post-marital love
3.2.1. Separation unendurable
1151 If you will say, ‘I leave thee not,’ then tell me so; Of quick return tell those that can survive this woe. If it is not departure, tell me; but if it is your speedy return, tell it to those who would be alive then.
1152 It once was perfect joy to look upon his face; But now the fear of parting saddens each embrace. His very look was once pleasing; but (now) even intercourse is painful through fear of separation.
1153 To trust henceforth is hard, if ever he depart, E’en he, who knows his promise and my breaking heart. As even the lover who understands (everything) may at times depart, confidence is hardly possible.
1154 If he depart, who fondly said, ‘Fear not,’ what blame’s incurred By those who trusted to his reassuring word? If he who bestowed his love and said “fear not” should depart, will it be the fault of those who believed in (his) assuring words ?
1155 If you would guard my life, from going him restrain Who fills my life! If he depart, hardly we meet again. If you would save (my life), delay the departure of my destined (husband); for if he departs, intercourse will become impossible.
1156 To cherish longing hope that he should ever gracious be, 140 Is hard, when he could stand, and of departure speak to me. If he is so cruel as to mention his departure (to me), the hope that he would bestow (his love) must be given up.
1157 The bracelet slipping from my wrist announced before Departure of the Prince that rules the ocean shore. Do not the rings that begin to slide down my fingers forebode the separation of my lord ?
1158 ‘Tis sad to sojourn in the town where no kind kinsmen dwell; ‘Tis sadder still to bid a friend beloved farewell. Painful is it to live in a friendless town; but far more painful is it to part from one’s lover.
1159 Fire burns the hands that touch; but smart of love Will burn in hearts that far away remove. Fire burns when touched; but, like the sickness of love, can it also burn when removed ?
1160 Sorrow’s sadness meek sustaining, Driving sore distress away, Separation uncomplaining Many bear the livelong day! As if there were many indeed that can consent to the impossible, kill their pain, endure separation and yet continue to live afterwards.
3.2.2. Complainings
1161 I would my pain conceal, but see! it surging swells, As streams to those that draw from ever-springing wells. I would hide this pain from others; but it (only) swells like a spring to those who drain it.
1162 I cannot hide this pain of mine, yet shame restrains When I would tell it out to him who caused my pains. I cannot conceal this pain, nor can I relate it without shame to him who has caused it.
1163 My soul, like porter’s pole, within my wearied frame, Sustains a two-fold burthen poised, of love and shame. (Both) lust and shame, with my soul for their shoulder pole balance themselves on a body that cannot bear them.
1164 A sea of love, ’tis true, I see stretched out before, But not the trusty bark that wafts to yonder shore. There is indeed a flood of lust; but there is no raft of safety to cross it with.
1165 Who work us woe in friendship’s trustful hour, 141 What will they prove when angry tempests lower? He who can produce sorrow from friendship, what can he not bring forth out of enmity ?
1166 A happy love ‘s sea of joy; but mightier sorrows roll From unpropitious love athwart the troubled soul. The pleasure of lust is (as great as) the sea; but the pain of lust is far greater.
1167 I swim the cruel tide of love, and can no shore descry, In watches of the night, too, ‘mid the waters, only I! I have swam across the terrible flood of lust, but have not seen its shore; even at midnight I am alone; still I live.
1168 All living souls in slumber soft she steeps; But me alone kind night for her companing keeps! The night which graciously lulls to sleep all living creatures, has me alone for her companion.
1169 More cruel than the cruelty of him, the cruel one, In these sad times are lengthening hours of night I watch alone. The long nights of these days are far more cruel than the heartless one who is torturing me.
1170 When eye of mine would as my soul go forth to him, It knows not how through floods of its own tears to swim. Could mine eyes travel like my thoughts to the abode (of my absent lord), they would not swim in this flood of tears.
3.2.3. Eyes consumed with Grief
1171 They showed me him, and then my endless pain I saw: why then should weeping eyes complain? As this incurable malady has been caused by my eyes which showed (him) to me, why should they now weep for (him).
1172 How glancing eyes, that rash unweeting looked that day, With sorrow measureless are wasting now away! The dyed eyes that (then) looked without foresight, why should they now endure sorrow, without feeling sharply (their own fault).
1173 The eyes that threw such eager glances round erewhile Are weeping now. Such folly surely claims a smile! They themselves looked eagerly (on him) and now they weep. Is not this to be laughed at ? 142
1174 Those eyes have wept till all the fount of tears is dry, That brought upon me pain that knows no remedy. These painted eyes have caused me a lasting mortal disease; and now they can weep no more, the tears having dried up.
1175 The eye that wrought me more than sea could hold of woes, Is suffering pangs that banish all repose. Mine eyes have caused me a lust that is greater than the sea and (they themselves) endure the torture of sleeplessness.
1176 Oho! how sweet a thing to see! the eye That wrought this pain, in the same gulf doth lie. The eyes that have given me this disease have themselves been seized with this (suffering). Oh! I am much delighted.
1177 Aching, aching, let those exhaust their stream, That melting, melting, that day gazed on him. The eyes that became tender and gazed intently on him, may they suffer so much as to dry up the fountain of their tears.
1178 Who loved me once, onloving now doth here remain; Not seeing him, my eye no rest can gain. He is indeed here who loved me with his lips but not with his heart but mine eyes suffer from not seeing him.
1179 When he comes not, all slumber flies; no sleep when he is there; Thus every way my eyes have troubles hard to bear. When he is away they do not sleep; when he is present they do not sleep; in either case, mine eyes endure unbearable agony.
1180 It is not hard for all the town the knowledge to obtain, When eyes, as mine, like beaten tambours, make the mystery plain. It is not difficult for the people of this place to understand the secret of those whose eyes, like mine, are as it were beaten drums.