1. O his glance—you have dealt my heart wound upon wound!

    As though I had slain some man of yours whose blood was fair game.

  2. O lifeblood of lovers, what wrong have

    the eyes of beauties ever done you in love?

  3. Did the languor in their eyelids beguile you?

    But how can one be beguiled by the softness of sword blades?

  4. Do glances, for killing us, incur no

    blood-requital, reproach, or sin?

  5. He met the night with night drawn from his hair,

    and dawn with morning drawn from his face.

  6. He came to visit while the star moved in tiny steps

    on its course, and the Eagle was broken-winged.

Sol 5.6