Sol 5.6

  1. A lightning flash coursed as night’s blackness was wiped away;

    I said, “A bracelet on the wrists of a dark-skinned man.”

  2. A cloud had blocked the whole breadth of the horizon—you would think it

    was buttoning upon the world a shirt perfumed with amber.

  3. It drifted gently upon the hands of sweethearts and the east wind,

    like a heedless youth sharing an intoxicating cup.

  4. You would fancy musk within it, and pearls in the raindrops,

    rubies in the meadow, and amber in the mud:

  5. the blackness of a cloud sending down water white,

    and the bright brow of earth bringing forth blossoms yellow.

  6. The breaths of a languid wind brought it to you,

    like a terrifying madwoman driving an army before her.

  7. It cast upon the pools a coat of closely woven mail,

    and bestowed upon the lowlands an embroidered mantle.

  8. You would think the rain in the sky was a string of pearls,

    and upon the cheeks of earth, pearls scattered wide.

  9. The earth’s fragrance came forth upon the breath of the east wind,

    and through it the mantle of the air passed the night perfumed.

  10. Whenever the thunders called within it and made themselves heard,

    camel drivers answered, and it burst into abundant rain.

  11. It weeps whenever the lightning bares its tooth in laughter,

    turning the lightning’s fire into gushing water.

  12. It is as though within it were a sheltered maiden, tender in youth,

    who had taken the cloud’s folded edge for a veil:

  13. a mouth showing us its radiant smile from afar,

    and tears showing us, from afar, their downward flow.

Sol 5.6