1. Many an embryo from the fruit of sweet water,

    Laying bare secrets and innermost thoughts,

  2. I drew from the womb of the pool.

    As though they were sheets of crystal,

  3. Or pieces of pure camphor.

    If they remained a strand through the ages,

  4. They would make necklaces on throats needless,

    And put the jewels of the seas to shame,

  5. And be called the teeth's rival wives.

    Oh, how lovely it is in the season of scorching heat,

  6. When its summer heat is like the heart of one forsaken!

    It brings to livers and breasts

  7. A reviving breath like the sigh of one with an ailing chest,

    And brings joy to the chilled.

Sol 6.1