And me, who took her with me to the river, Thinking she was single, But she had a husband. The light of caution Makes me more guarded. Her thighs would escape me Like surprised prayers. Half of them full of fire, the other Half full of cold. And that night I rode, Down the best of roads, With such a fine filly, Without reins or stirrups. And being a man, I don't want to say, Things she said, Because though she had a husband, She told me she was single, As I took her with me to the river. It was a moon[lit] night, Naila cried before me, She told me tenderly, That she loved me passionately. I asked her why she cried, And she answered: "my caress is no good anymore; I'm no longer Naila to you" "I've been with another man; I'm no longer Naila to you" Naila, tell me why you're deserting me, Silly, if you know for a fact that I love you, Come back to me; Don't seek out any more avenues. I forgive you because without your love, My heart breaks. Lupe speaks: I was told yesterday, Tongues of a double-edged sword, That you were married a month ago, And [here] I [was] so unmoved. Anyone else in my place, Would have started to cry; Me, with my arms crossed, said it was all the same to me. No shooting myself, Or barraging you with insults, Or pelting sighs at Your balconies. So you went and got married, much luck, Live 100 years happy, And may your hour of death not be taken into account even by God. If at the altar, You should forget my name, [I swear] By the glory of my mother, That I won't harbor any grudges towards you. However, since your beau is rich, I'll sell you this prophecy: By dawn, You'll dream that you were mine. And you'll remember the afternoon when my mouth kissed you. And you'll wake up crying, And call yourself a coward!! coward! as I call you. Because he who wasn't even your beau, or your husband, or your lover was the one who loved you most. And with that my love, with that, I am satisfied. And I don't ask the heavens, To punish you any further, May you sleep with another, And dream about me.
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.
-Albert Einstein