1. Is it your saliva, or the cloud's water, or wine?

    Cool in my mouth, yet burning coals in my liver.

  2. Is this a bough, or this a sand mound, or are you an enchantment?

    And this little thing I kissed—was it lightning or a mouth?

  3. My reprovers saw the face of the one I love at night,

    So they said, "We see a sun, though dawn has not risen."

  4. They saw her, in whose glances sorcery has

    Swords whose edges are forever red with my blood.

  5. Beauty's repose in her movements has reached perfection;

    So whoever sees her face and does not die has no excuse.

  6. To you, son of Yahya son of al-Walid, they bore

    Me across the deserts—pale camels whose flesh and blood are poetry.

  7. I sprinkled remembrance of you upon the heat of their hearts;

    So they journeyed on, the earth's length but a handspan in their eyes.

  8. To a lion of war whose sword feeds the lion flesh,

    And a sea of generosity in whose waves the sea itself drowns.

  9. Even though his generosity leaves of his inherited wealth

    The like of what separation leaves of a lover.

  10. A youth whose very wealth is seized each day

    By the spears of lofty deeds, not the brown Rudaynian spears.

  11. The distance between the clouds and him is vast:

    Their gift is raindrops; his gift is a flood.

  12. And were the world to submit to his hand's judgment,

    The world would become such that even its abundance was scant.

  13. The greatness of his worth made its worth seem small to him;

    So even a thing of great worth has no worth in his eyes.

  14. Whenever he gestures toward the sky with his face,

    Sirius falls before him, and the full moon is eclipsed;

  15. You see the earthly moon and the king to whom

    Belong sovereignty, after God, glory, and renown.

  16. His eyes are often sleepless, though not from illness;

    Thought of what brings him honor keeps him awake.

  17. His praiseworthy deeds exhaust praise, as though

    They had sworn by him that no thanks could be rendered them.

  18. O Abu Ahmad, glory belongs only to its rightful people;

    And a man who is not of Buhtur has no glory.

  19. They are mankind itself, save that, for their noble deeds,

    Townsfolk sing of them, and travelers chant of them as they drive their camels.

  20. Whom shall I cite as an example, or whom shall I compare

    With you, when time's people—and time itself—are beneath you?

Sol 6.1