Sol 5.6

  1. Layla reminds me—and one possessed by love does not forget—

    of a beloved for whom I spend the morning downcast, just as I did the evening.

  2. If only I had two souls: one I would give

    to Layla, and one I would keep in reserve for myself.

  3. My wish is that, so long as I live and endure,

    I never cease to be a saddlecloth at her tent posts, O passerby.

  4. Even if God decrees that I forget, indeed I—

    will wear smooth the earth’s road by journeying toward her.

  5. I shall brave the surging sea, and at another time

    ride a strong, full-grown she-camel along her road.

  6. I shall wear the robes of pitch-dark nights down to the dust,

    and in broad daylight make the earth’s cold my clothing.

  7. At forenoon I shall make the saddles of swift Mahri camels

    the place I turn to, and at evening make them my lodging.

  8. Then ruin upon my reproachers whenever they reproach me!

    Whenever I seek union with her—ruin upon them, ruin!

  9. Should I stay far from Layla in a dwelling, as though

    before death I had entered the grave because of its narrowness?

  10. Could I consent to choose Oman for an abode,

    when I find there neither charm nor companionship for me?

  11. I thought its inhabitants were people like those who have gone before,

    but found them neither jinn nor humankind.

  12. When summoned, they are deaf; when they call, dumb;

    if they speak, tongue-tied, and if prompted to speak, mute.

  13. They have made their creeds and their worldly goods,

    in every circumstance, a shield before their creeds—

  14. save for the few among them; while a man of discernment

    is abased in their eyes, counted neither a man nor a priest.

  15. Welcome, letter! A thought from you has visited me—

    one who had begrudged me sent a letter across our separation.

  16. It brought me consolation after anguish,

    and through you, despite your distance, I found companionship.

Sol 5.6