Sol 5.6

  1. A phantom, a cooing dove, and a wine jar of rhymes;

    and intoxication drawn from your crystalline voice.

  2. .. ..

    A memory, a wish, and a trembling melody—

    the core of my heart weeps for it, out of sheer longing.

  3.    

    ..

    And ink of longing that has won the hearts of all humankind.

    May your mother be bereaved of you! That is but some of my choicest wine.

  4.  

    A stranger drank it, though I never meant to offer hospitality—

    the toast of passion—while you hold yourself aloof from it.

  5. ؟ ؟

    ؟!!!

    Do you fear falling, when safety itself is my ribs?

    And bliss—all bliss—is within my embrace?!

Sol 5.6