Sol 5.6

  1. So the garden—the east wind curled its temple-locks,

    and the waves—the north wind tossed their forelocks.

  2. I think the Tigris has embraced Islam—or have you not see—

    —n the bridge, its girdle cutting across her waist?

  3. And glory’s builder there was like a planter,

    planting benefactions around it as his trees.

  4. He fashioned the revolving firmament, as though

    he had created it before it existed and set it turning.

  5. He built his palace upon the Pleiades’ heights,

    and spread his dwelling over the sphere of al-Naʿāʾim.

  6. The plaster—its craftsmen polish its ocean-deep sheen;

    the teak—its finishers engrave its gold.

  7. It has engrossed our thoughts and our eyes’ gaze

    since he began making its ornamentation his poems—

  8. more expansive in conception, should it occur to his mind.

    And reach heaven when you reach his domains.

  9. The teller of his story forgets the Amalekite giants,

    and he who numbers his cities puts Egypt to shame.

Sol 5.6