Sol 5.6

  1. My two companions, the bān trees have come into view, and the blossoms have flourished.

    So turn aside toward a meadow where the river flows in abundance.

  2. The east wind trails its hem over the leafy thickets,

    making their lofty green boughs sway like a drunken man.

  3. From high in the treetops, a nightingale warbles,

    and on the branches a ring-dove sings, full of chatter.

  4. The dewdrops have opened the blossoms of a spreading tree,

    and hosts of radiant flowers have arrived beneath it:

  5. fresh narcissus, roses, and lilies,

    myrtle and eglantine, wafting their fragrance toward us.

  6. So welcome them! We seek merriment and cast aside

    the whispering thoughts that make the breast seethe.

  7. Then let us sip the choicest wine from the hand of a graceful youth,

    served round by a deacon whose countenance is the full moon.

  8. When the pitcher runs dry of our potent aged wine,

    his mouth undertakes to give us nectar in its stead.

  9. And if he presses upon us his two cups—his eyes and his palm—

    we grow drunk, unable to tell from which of the two intoxication comes.

  10. We sweep proudly in the train of felicitations, just as

    Damascus, through the lord who is her mainstay, has come into joy:

  11. an ally of lofty glory, stouthearted and at home among noble virtues,

    virtues that verse and prose alike fall short of describing;

  12. certain to solve difficulties when they grow dark—

    in every hardship, an ease of his encompasses them.

  13. He assumed the rule of Damascus of Syria, and her life-giving rain poured down;

    her well-watered lands grew fertile, and pride was hers.

  14. No wonder, then, that rhymed verses offer praises

    to him: his exalted rank suffices him, and thought itself is his servant.

  15. Here she is for you: a virgin poem led as a bride to her chamber.

Sol 5.6