Sol 6.1

  1. The sound of the nightingale's whistle

    stirred my intoxicated heart.

  2. Water and flowers together,

    with the blossom of the eyes' glance.

  3. And you, O master of mine,

    and my master, and a patron to me.

  4. So how often, how often, I was enthralled

    by a little gazelle, agate-like to me.

  5. I plucked from his cheek,

    from kissing the rose of bashfulness.

  6. So he said, 'Enough! You've bas-bas-ed me!'

    So he would not bestow kisses.

  7. So he said, 'No, no, no—then no, no, no!'

    And he had set off at a trot.

  8. And the young beauty swayed in delight

    at this man's deed.

  9. So she wailed and wailed:

    'Woe to me, woe to me—oh, woe to me!'

  10. So I said, 'Do not wail,

    and show me the pearls.'

  11. When she saw him grizzled,

    wanting something other than kisses,

  12. and afterward not satisfied

    except with the sweetness of union with me,

  13. she said to him at that moment:

    'Rise, and hasten to move on.'

  14. And young men gave me to drink

    coffee, like honey to me.

  15. I smelled it with my nose,

    more fragrant than cloves,

  16. in the midst of a garden adorned

    with flowers, and joy was mine.

  17. And the lute went 'dan,' humming for me,

    and the drum went 'tab,' drumming for me.

  18. 'Tab, tabi, tab, tabi,

    tab, tab, taba—for me.'

  19. And the roof had gone 'saq-saq' for me,

    and the dancing had gone 'tab-tab' for me.

  20. 'Shawa, shawa, and shahish,'

    upon quince leaves.

  21. And the moon warbled, crying out,

    from boredom, amid boredom.

  22. If only you could see me riding

    on a scrawny donkey,

  23. walking on three legs,

    like the gait of the 'ʿaranjil.'

  24. And the people pelted my camel

    in the market with 'qulqulal.'

  25. And everyone went 'kaʿkaʿ, kaʿikaʿ'

    behind me and from all around me.

  26. But I walked off, fleeing,

    for fear of the 'ʿaqanqili,'

  27. to meet a king,

    greatly honored and revered,

  28. who orders me a robe of honor,

    red as blood—'damali.'

  29. I drag it, walking in it,

    swaggering Baghdad-style with its trailing hem.

  30. I am the brilliant man of letters,

    from a quarter in the land of Mosul.

  31. I composed embellished pieces of verse

    which literary art cannot match for me.

  32. I say at their opening:

    The sound of the nightingale's whistle

Sol 6.1