1. Ask in Yathrib whether the caravan has stayed,

    or whether the open plains still lie before its lodging there.

  2. Indeed, I concealed from them my passion for them,

    for love is an illness hard to conceal.

  3. O my two companions, it is part of a man's good fortune,

    when he bears ardent passion, that he should have companions.

  4. Do not seize anyone but me in vengeance for my blood when I am slain;

    my soul—anyone other than me bears no guilt for it.

  5. From the moment of my glance, the day I visited you,

    longing pierced me, and love came visiting.

  6. And when I saw the beauty among you,

    set apart from all creation, how could I not yearn?

  7. He wrongs me, yet I do not reproach him—

    one with whom reproach is of no avail.

  8. He turns away from me without shame,

    certain that I am infatuated with him.

  9. A liar falsely tells him I have found consolation,

    an ignoble man in affection, whose truth is lies.

  10. It distressed him that I preferred them,

    yet the noble man is envied for his virtues.

  11. Do you suppose that I am near you?

    Far from it—there is no nearness between us.

  12. The thicket conceals me in its lairs,

    concealing what no sheepfold holds the like of.

  13. No indeed—the limbs are not all alike;

    the head is not counted among them—and what a wonder!

  14. Toward the proud glory of kingship I dispatch

    verses whose renown travels through books.

  15. By them, borne upon the saddle-bows of a swift she-camel,

    the caravan swiftly crosses the stages on my behalf.

  16. As for the goblet, had it not drawn

    its evening companions, the drinkers would never have tasted it.

  17. They kindled its radiance, only spoiling it,

    as though they had set the musk of a perfume caravan ablaze.

  18. A king whom, when men behold him,

    faces bow before him and kiss the dust.

  19. And when he sits with knees drawn up in a darkened traveling lodge,

    the mountains did not bestow his dignity upon him.

  20. Who is there that has attained heaven as

    your two hands have, thereby surpassing wonder?

  21. And whose station has never been occupied

    by non-Arab or Arab in this world?

  22. And who, when he mounted the summits of—

    statecraft, made East and West submit?

  23. O you through whose brandished palm are strengthened

    the dusky spear-shafts, while war takes pride!

  24. And in the darkness of a pitch-black night there shines

    through him for us what meteors cannot illumine.

  25. When we invoke him, there is no fear

    to be feared, no anxiety, and no weariness.

  26. Through him Time's maladies are warded

    from us, and famine is banished at his name.

  27. They tested you amid a grave crisis

    that, when it strikes, makes even the flank lie restless,

  28. when it frayed every firmly fastened thing

    from its bonds, while the breach kept widening.

  29. So you dispelled it—and at your hands, without

    a mortal aiding you, the anguish was relieved.

  30. Before you there were men whose campaigns

    left their mounts' backs crooked and humped.

  31. They vanished, leaving neither report nor trace,

    like dry brushwood tossed by hostile winds.

  32. But now a young man has mastered affairs,

    skilled through long practice in handling them.

  33. In him they have laid down their staff, secure;

    for others remain intimidation and dread.

  34. What had drawn far away, you swiftly brought near

    by the thrust and blow of your two hands.

  35. The drinkers drank deeply from it despite

    their thirst; but for you, they would not have drunk.

  36. They frolic amid what you secured for them,

    for after earnest labor comes play.

  37. You see them wallowing in those favors,

    exultantly, as mangy camels rub themselves.

  38. You were the one who first bestowed, unprompted,

    favors at some of which the mind reels.

  39. And you came to me apologizing for Time,

    as though, in your judgment, its fault were yours.

  40. Never shall I forget—never—your eager rising for me,

    though today barriers are raised before that sight.

  41. In an assembly where I alone, apart from them all, had

    ample room in your abode and generous welcome.

  42. And upon the couches you were a full moon amid darkness;

    I had closeness to him beside his cushion.

  43. Rejoice, then, in this Mehragan, and remain

    forever shining for us, never growing dim.

  44. Delight in days made new;

    today, through you, they draw near to their mother.

  45. May the lives of the two noblest men be prolonged for us,

    and may the Lord suffice them both and preserve them,

  46. until you see for them what

    your own eyes have beheld in you—for that is enough.

Sol 5.6