Sol 6.1

  1. We saw your cloak, O son of Harb,

    It makes a lowly man lowlier still.

  2. Whenever the mender repairs a part of it,

    The remaining part gives way and splits.

  3. My companion greets me, and so tears a handspan

    In it; and I tear a cubit in my reply.

  4. I run my gaze over its two ends, lengthwise

    And breadthwise; I see nothing but patches.

  5. So I have no doubt that, for an age, it was

    A sail for Noah aboard his ark.

  6. And I sang when I caught sight of

    Its remnants falling apart upon my shoulder:

  7. "Stay, before we part, O Dubaʿa,

    And let this meeting with you not be farewell."

Sol 6.1