Sol 5.6

  1. O mother of Hawran, keep it secret—or spread the tale.

    How distant now are the days of unalloyed bachelorhood!

  2. Once, before crushing old age—

    and before my muscles had grown full and knotted—

  3. my spittle and my antidote could cure poison.

    So do not be, O daughter of the lofty one,

  4. a ringdove whom her blood-shedding wolf has wounded.

    Harith, you have indeed relieved me of my grief;

  5. my night grew restful, and my care cleared away.

    The sorely afflicted man’s anguish has indeed lifted.

  6. What an excellent mainstay of his people—and what a kinsman!

    On a day when the millstone of crushing battle turns,

  7. amid the broad field and the armor-clad ranks,

    I see the all-encompassing onset of fate

  8. slip away—while blame rests with those who merit blame—

    from a towering lion of might,

  9. of the house of Amr, amid the teeming host.

    O son of Sulaym, among the proud, lofty forelocks,

  10. you are heir to every chieftain, ocean-deep in generosity—

    vast in largesse, lavish in time of grave need—

  11. of a lineage perfected to the utmost,

    lofty in forebears, a mighty, crowd-cleaving champion.

  12. So spread your two sheltering wings over us against looming calamity,

    drawing near, singling us out, shielding us, while embracing all.

  13. And I said to him as he rose toward full eminence:

    Do not leave me cast down—my father and mother be your ransom!

  14. Harith, you have indeed grappled with one of the deaf, unyielding calamities:

    a famine-year that devours every last worn remnant,

  15. sweeping away whatever sprouts after the mowing,

    burning up wealth as glowing coals burn,

  16. and reducing me to a wasted body—

    an emaciated frame, like one consumed by clinging illness.

  17. And I am seen with the opening of my sleeve gaping wide,

    more exposed than the turban of a turbaned man,

  18. baring shanks blackened pitch-dark.

    I do not seek, through ignoble deeds,

  19. to wreak wanton havoc, nor does my surging abundance make me arrogant.

    I am the envoy of a people united in purpose.

Sol 5.6