Before I die, will I smell the scents of Khuzama and look again on Qarqara?
Before I die, will I drink the waters of al-Hujayla and heal my sickness?
Tamarisk trees of the valley! My heart is heavy with you and unconsoled.
Tamarisk trees of the valley! Travel has wearied my companions. Is there a place to rest in your shade?
I want to rush toward you—but a heavy debt lies in the way and turns me back.
I talk to myself about you, for I cannot return to you and sadness has made a home in my heart.

Yahya bin Talib al-Hanafi, in Robyn Creswell, “Eloquent Phantom”