On the night of the promised meeting, at times I lay unconscious in anticipation, and at times I raised my head to see if you had arrived.

This couplet captures the agonizing suspense and overwhelming thrill of waiting for the beloved on the night of a promised meeting. The lover is caught in an intense tug-of-war between weakness and longing—fainting from sheer nervous exhaustion one moment, and lifting their head at the slightest rustle the next, hoping they have finally arrived. It paints a tender, deeply human portrait of anticipation where the heart’s restlessness completely overpowers the body.