Sol 5.6

  1. O driver of the departing caravan, by God, do not halt for the night.

    Perhaps, through your nearness, precious souls may find favor.

  2. Make the camels kneel and remove saddlecloths that have eaten through their hides,

    until they have become like hides themselves—so long have you kept them blanketed.

  3. Here in the rugged upland is a verdant patch of luxuriant, flourishing meadow,

    and sweet, limpid water that spends the night growing clear and flowing gently.

  4. The hands of the north wind set it rippling, as though,

    when the eye beheld it, it were a saw-toothed blade.

  5. But if you desire nothing except al-Liwa, then upon al-Liwa

    be peace: there is a stopping place and a camp for the night,

  6. and a people who hold an abode upon every lofty eminence,

    whose honor rises above every tribe, loftier still—

  7. noble men whose faces illuminate perplexing hardships,

    as the full moon shines through translucent parchment at Tumm.

  8. Among them humiliation finds neither pasture nor resting place,

    nor does disgrace find among them a companion or foothold.

  9. My two companions, tell me: what may I confide to you,

    when his discerning eye has already marked me?

  10. It marked me when we suddenly parted from our loved ones,

    and every steadfast man that day stood bewildered—

  11. silent about his hidden grief: if he were asked what ails him,

    his only utterance would be sighing and heavy breath.

  12. The hands of separation shake him though he remains rooted,

    and passion’s complaint makes him speak though he is mute.

  13. Another grief that afflicted me was that, on the day they departed,

    I returned with my head shorn by the pain of separation.

  14. I had indeed been concealing my passionate yearning from them,

    but my streaming tears betrayed it.

  15. That evening I hid their flow within my cloak,

    so my companions would think that I was sneezing.

  16. And one night we passed sleepless at the mountain pass,

    filled with nothing but darkness upon deepest blackness.

  17. After the night had grown still, a visitor came to us, seeking

    a way to our provisions—famished by long evenings, gray with dust:

  18. a wolf, gaunt with hunger, his flanks laid bare, with nothing in him

    of food except what he might imagine and surmise.

  19. He came to me, dust-covered along his back, as though

    he were part of the earth, save that he was feeling his way forward.

  20. He drew in his two sides, concealing his bodily form,

    and bowed his head until I thought he was not breathing,

  21. gathering all his senses inward, apprehensive;

    for in cunning he possessed nothing but caution.

  22. By his own cleverness he tried to dupe me out of my mount,

    not knowing that I was subtler and craftier than he.

  23. He crouched opposite the saddle, awaiting an unguarded moment,

    while greed suggested to him that I would soon doze.

  24. So, when his deception persisted, I said to him:

    “Keep your dignity: here is no morsel for your fang.

  25. I would not have denied you a guest’s fare, had you desired it

    with gentleness; but haughty swagger has taken hold of you.”

  26. When he saw my patience with him, and saw that I

    would not let a would-be deceiver dupe me, but held myself dear,

  27. he howled, then turned away, resorting fiercely to his jaws,

    seeking with both of them what some keeper had slept and left unguarded.

  28. How many grave ordeals have I passed through with deliberate patience,

    while my honor remained smooth, untouched by my clan’s reproach;

  29. and how many noble benefactions have I bestowed openhandedly,

    though the base, dissembling miser begrudged all giving.

  30. The roads leading to the winning of noble deeds and lofty glory,

    and to lavish bounty, I made plain though they had been effaced.

  31. Yet my master summons me, while within his glances

    are sparks of rancor for anyone who would draw fire from them.

  32. He buries a grudge in the black innermost core of his heart,

    to hide it—as though a grudge could ever have a grave.

  33. He marvels that I have surpassed him in virtues;

    but why should one who travels before dawn not outstrip those who leave at daybreak?

  34. It is as though he and I were two men summoned by a sick man

    who recovers a little, then turns away from health and relapses.

  35. The perplexing mystery of his temper and his qualities

    is as you will: now flashing and radiant, now dark with despair.

  36. Yet I do not desist from whatever fellowship may bring forth,

    nor is he restrained from going to estrangement’s farthest reach.

Sol 5.6