Sol 5.6

  1. Did a lightning-flash stir your longing—one your eye spent the night watching for rain—

    and send your tears streaming? May its clouds never pass away.

  2. Ask the deserted dwelling about its moons; for often

    you ask about the very thing you already know.

  3. Here it is before you: breathe in an east wind whose hem has been brushed

    by the eyes of blossoms, their sleeper now awakened.

  4. May the rain water those days back there, for they—

    ask my lifetime—were its feast-days and festival seasons.

  5. And many a noble company of drinkers I invited to the morning draught,

    while from the scabbard of darkness its keen sword had not yet been drawn.

  6. I invited them before the cock had announced the death of its night,

    and before its foremost pinions had borne the Eagle aloft through it,

  7. to a daughter of the vine whose secret Time had hidden

    from his sons, in hope she might find a dear companion with whom to drink.

  8. I was a man whose forbearing heart never constricted

    at a friend's offense; I had no wish to confront him.

  9. Had I wished, I would have enlisted the firm resolve of your fortitude

    and fought Time, with whom I never cease making peace.

Sol 5.6