“Source of mine evils, truly, she alone ’s, *
          Of long love-longing and my groans and moans;
     Near her I find my soul in melting mood, *
          For love of her and wasting of my bones.”

And finishing his poetry he said to Abu al-Hasan, “Hadst thou Dealt more kindly with me thou haddest forewarned me of these things ere I came hither, that I might have made up my mind and taken patience to support what hath befallen me.”  And he wept and groaned and complained.  Replied Abu al-Hasan, “O my brother, I meant thee naught but good; but I feared to tell thee this, lest such transport should betide thee as might hinder thee from foregathering with her, and be a stumbling-block between thee and her.  But be of good cheer and keep thine eyes cool and clear;[FN#177] for she to thee inclineth and to favour thee designeth.”  Asked Ali bin Bakkar, “What is this young lady’s name?” Answered Abu al-Hasan, “She is hight Shams al-Nahar, one of the favourites of the Commander of the Faithful, Harun al-Rashid, and this is the palace of the Caliphate.”  Then Shams al-Nahar sat gazing upon the charms of Ali bin Bakkar and he upon hers, till both were engrossed with love for each other.  Presently she commanded the damsels, one and all, to be seated, each in her rank and place, and all sat on a couch before one of the windows, and she bade them sing; whereupon one of them took up the lute and began caroling,

“Give thou my message twice * Bring clear reply in trice! 
To thee, O Prince of Beau * -ty[FN#178] with complaint I rise: 
My lord, as heart-blood dear * And Life’s most precious prize! 
Give me one kiss in gift * Or loan, if thou devise: 
And if thou crave for more * Take all that satisfies.[FN#179]
Thou donn’st me sickness-dress * Thee with health’s weed I
     bless.”

Her singing charmed Ali bin Bakkar, and he said to her, “Sing me more of the like of these verses.”  So she struck the strings and began to chaunt these lines,

     “By stress of parting, O beloved one, *
          Thou mad’st these eyelids torment- race to run: 
     Oh gladness of my sight and dear desire, *
          Goal of my wishes, my religion! 
     Pity the youth whose eyne are drowned in tears *
          Of lover gone distraught and clean undone.”

When she had finished her verses, Shams al-Nahar said to another damsel, “Let us hear something from thee!” So she played a lively measure and began these couplets,

     “His[FN#180] looks have made me drunken, not his wine; *
          His grace of gait disgraced sleep to these eyne: 
     Dazed me no cup, but cop with curly crop; *
          His gifts overcame me not the gifts of vine: 
     His winding locks my patience-clue unwound:  *
          His robed beauties robbed all wits of mine.”

When Shams Al-Nahar heard this recital from the damsel, she sighed heavily and the song pleased her.  Then she bade another damsel sing; so she took the lute and began chanting,