Sol 5.6

  1. In night's deep dark he gave me dawn to drink—

    a youth outshining the full-bosomed maid.

  2. The full moon saw his face more radiant than its own,

    then turned its gaze away in envy and departed.

  3. I see his cheeks spilling light,

    and fancy they are filled with wounds.

  4. When wine's fire sways his supple frame,

    I know that it has brandished spears.

  5. He struck me with love's fever and took his ease,

    and taught me love-madness and lament.

  6. He dealt me death with languid dark eyes—

    ailing eyes that outdo flawless white blades.

  7. I saw the dawn between his two dark locks,

    and in his mouth, anemones and daisies.

  8. I cried, “How sweet the morning draught!” He passed me by,

    and after he had gone, I saw no dawn.

  9. By my faith, had I been alone with him,

    my hand would gird his lance-like form, a sash.

  10. I would have flouted chastity, though my own

    virtue forbade me—for him, flouted virtue.

  11. Yet I shall break the oath that I have sworn,

    in fear of a ruler who will not abide the wicked—

  12. a man turning devoutly to God: whenever his hands grow weary,

    he finds repose in serving faith and worldly good.

  13. His bounty, bound for those who hope in him, outstrips the

    raging winds and sleek, arrow-swift steeds.

  14. His virtues rival the sun in spreading far and wide,

    so palms spread out before them, broad as plains.

  15. Hands rise in prayer for him,

    and the nightingale of piety cries “Amen!” and sings.

  16. May God never turn their prayer away,

    nor time ever clip his wing.

Sol 5.6