Sol 5.6

  1. Do I call, yet you pay me no heed though you are near?

    Do I complain, yet you bring no relief though you are a healer?

  2. Never did I fear that you would see me laughing

    while your grove stood lush, its branches drenched in dew.

  3. Can honor permit me to complain of thirst

    when you are both a stoutly twisted well-rope and a well?

  4. And how can I attain the one I seek when separation stretches far,

    when even at close range he has turned deaf to me and will not answer?

  5. Has the watering place of that pure friendship been muddied,

    and has a dune been heaped upon that brotherhood?

  6. Farewell to fidelity’s covenant, as I bid it farewell—

    a farewell of parting, for as long as a palm stalk stands.

  7. A farewell to it: moisture upon the rims of my eyes,

    and, at other times, a blaze within the curves of my ribs.

  8. It once would journey by night, though far-flung wastes lay between us;

    through it a breeze would grow dewy, and fragrance would breathe forth;

  9. there a blossom would smile, revealing gladness,

    and toward it, from my two sides, a slender bough would sway.

Sol 5.6