Khan Zada's Song on the Hillside

The fires that burn on all the hills

Light up the landscape grey,

The arid desert land distills

The fervours of the day.

The clear white moon sails through the skies

And silvers all the night,

I see the brilliance of your eyes

And need no other light.

The death sighs of a thousand flowers

The fervent day has slain

Are wafted through the twilight hours,

And perfume all the plain.

My senses strain, and try to clasp

Their sweetness in the air,

In vain, in vain; they only grasp

The fragrance of your hair.

The plain is endless space expressed;

Vast is the sky above,

I only feel, against your breast,

Infinities of love.