Sol 5.6

  1. She came down to behold a garden where there had sprung

    its tamarisks, and the vegetation flourished.

  2. And behold—the sky with all its stars,

    and life, with its pure serenity;

  3. its adornment an enchantress of delights,

    like magic beyond the reach of description.

  4. The flowers of the gardens were companies that unfurled

    their banners, while time grew serene for them.

  5. No—rather, they were my family: every radiant bloom

    a mother, and every humble little one a daughter.

  6. And water—its springs give it drink:

    the blessings of a lifetime that hatred had shunned.

  7. And the breezes’ playgrounds convey whatever

    they recount, with neither falsehood nor calumny.

  8. Thus, too, the face of life is smiling

    for those with children, but gaunt for all besides.

  9. But there a flower stood,

    bewildered, shunned by those who had wintered there.

  10. Her leaves drawn tightly in, she withered,

    like a lovely woman with no share of fortune.

  11. The birds around her fell silent; for in

    some situations, silence is fitting.

  12. Through the days she went, her brow held high,

    smooth and bare despite neglect.

  13. Then Salma felt compassion for her, and shed

    tears like a necklace of pearls coming unstrung.

  14. She stepped forward, until, when she drew near

    to her, her bearing eclipsed all others.

  15. She began to kiss her tenderly—

    and thus does sister kiss sister.

Sol 5.6