The radiant sun sends from above ten thousand blessings down, nor is he set so high for show alone.

Who to a woman trusts his peace of mind, Trusts a frail bark, with a tempestuous wind.

There is no heaven like mutual love.

Shall Nature, erring from her first command, self-preservation, fall by her own hand?

Marriage the happiest bond of love might be, If hands were only joined when hearts agree.

The radiant sun sends from above ten thousand blessings down, nor is he set so high for show alone.

Of all the kind of pains, the greatest pain is to love and to love in vain.