Sol 6

  1. My wife foolishly sought to leave me,

    And grew weary of me, refusing my embrace.

  2. She claimed she was mine when wealth was at hand,

    And that I was bound to poverty.

  3. Then her eyes slept after a time of weakness,

    Though her lids and eye corners were filled with bitter aloe.

  4. And she forgot a calamity in Damascus

    That lifted my soul to the very top of my collarbones:

  5. The day they brought a bier to Ibn Urwa,

    Carried in the men's hands and upon their shoulders.

  6. They bore it swiftly onward to the

    Grave, though no race urged them on

  7. Toward that slippery resting place. When they concealed

    His body, they climbed back up, while he did not rise.

  8. I nearly died when they hid him

    In a tomb sealed with close-set slabs.

  9. Grief for him seized me with an anguish

    Whose suppression choked off even a sob.

  10. I turned away in pain, wounded

    By how recently I had seen him and how far away our next meeting lay.

  11. Knowing the ways of time, I know that I

    Wear the garb of a life with only a breath left.

  12. By my life, I have lost an offspring

    Of bright promise and noble roots.

  13. I had feared death for him;

    If only my fear could have protected him.

  14. But death cannot be turned aside by the care

    Of one who cares, or by a healer's incantation.

  15. And we lived in ease like the two sons of Nuwayra when they

    Lived together in contentment and accord.

  16. Then we came to a long separation:

    Every living being is destined to part.

Sol 6