On the morning they left
we said goodbye
filled with sadness
for the absence to come.
Inside the palanquins
on the camels' backs
I saw their faces beautiful as moons
behind veils of golden cloth.
Beneath the veils
tears crept like scorpions
over the fragrant roses
of their cheeks.
These scorpions do not harm
the cheek they mark.
They save their sting
for the heart of the sorrowful lover.
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