Sol 5.6

  1. Take back the cups that hold your heady wine;

    for I see no wine save what comes from your face.

  2. What your two eyes have done is enough—and if

    you deny it, your cheeks prove my claim.

  3. O sister of the dune-gazelle in neck and nape,

    and rival of the sun—who gave you a fatwa to slay?

  4. What harm could the clouds’ turning away do your abode, when

    my own cloud-bank has rained upon it from this weeper’s eyes?

  5. Were it not for your love, I would never inhale a single waft

    of breeze, to tell from it of your fragrance.

  6. You were unjustly commissioned to destroy lives—so, O

    dark-lipped beauty, who appointed you over souls?

  7. I found your love within my heart; how could I see

    a partner beside it? That is idolatry itself.

  8. Never, over all that I endure, make a show

    of innocence—for I am one among your slain.

Sol 5.6