Sol 5.6

  1. I am a sea of satire, if you seek to shun me,

    and seas of praise, if you seek my friendship.

  2. Is my poetry my failing? Curb your speech and come to your senses,

    lest a crushing blow from my judgment strike you.

  3. So beware, then beware, then beware of

    the lion of strife, the disperser of enemies.

  4. O you who would split a rock with a glass bottle,

    desist—may I be rid of you, O father of the rabble!

  5. Do you fault it, though it is the very thing for which

    our eloquent men—indeed, the entire body of scholars—have testified?

  6. No sighted person denies the radiant sun,

    except some paltry fellow with a blind eye.

  7. Whoever faults it is yearning for lampoon, because

    his character falls short—and so he has courted my satire.

  8. Has the man who belittles my poetry not seen that I am

    the cup of death, the bearer of the standard?

  9. Say a word to him, that he may open his eye:

    truly, I am of mighty standing among poets.

  10. I am the likeness of your age—as though my nature

    were molded from good fortune and adversity.

  11. Were my onslaught to strike the deaf, deep-rooted mountains,

    it would topple their summits onto the dusty earth.

Sol 5.6