Sol 5.6

  1. I complain to you of tears that drip,

    after separation, and inward parts that parch;

  2. and of a heart that, when parting is mentioned, trembles—

    longing and sorrow stirring on either side of it.

  3. His hand was bereaved of a jealously guarded treasure,

    so he remained with neither substitute nor successor,

  4. like a roaming wild beast whose watering places were withheld

    and from whom the untouched meadow receded.

  5. A companionship waned even as it reached perfection—

    no wonder: the full moon is eclipsed.

  6. May God not banish those who went far away:

    they lodged passion in us, though they themselves did not stay.

  7. What powers they severed, and what blood

    they shed, and what a wound they inflicted!

  8. I have not forgotten our stance and theirs

    after the departure, while our tears dripped,

  9. mutually silent from stunned grief, although

    the streaming tears spoke on our behalf.

  10. O rider of the high-humped she-camel, whose withers

    are like a mountain crowned above by peaks,

  11. treading through darkness beneath his crown,

    while night hangs thick upon his eyelids;

  12. he traversed the gloom and folded up its dark cloak,

    whose hems lay over the hilltops,

  13. until the darkness cast off its dye

    and the blackness of night enfolded him as it cleared.

  14. He presses on: whenever a curtain

    from the wing of night descends upon him, another encloses him.

  15. Carry to the man of praise an admonitory message

    at which white blades and fine mail would split:

  16. the outpourings of one in anguish, whom

    the heat of inner grief besets and yearning overwhelms.

  17. How swiftly time recoiled,

    and the drops of our affection turned turbid!

  18. A rope came to have one end in our palms,

    and its other end in the hands of separation.

  19. Can the beauty of that age be recovered,

    or the sweetness of that life begun anew?

  20. Or may the watering place be approached a second time,

    and may the drinker savor the water’s coolness?

  21. Alas for that time—but can

    regret turn back a time that has passed?

  22. After you, our cord snapped, and far-flung separation drove

    each of us toward his own destination.

  23. The string that ordered us came undone, its beads scattered,

    though we had flourished while it was joined.

  24. Al-Battī withdrew from our side

    and drew away, leaving neither love nor ardent attachment.

  25. He shunned our gatherings, and an inclination in him

    bent toward hatred.

  26. All that companionship was removed,

    and all that goodness and kindness swept away.

  27. He put the injunction beneath the sole of his foot

    and knowingly committed the offense.

  28. We complain to you of his manner of friendship:

    he is fickle, treacherous, and flighty.

  29. Perhaps for us—and “perhaps” awakens hope—

    one day, through your nearness, we shall gain redress from him.

  30. May our nights that have passed be watered

    by a vanguard of rain-clouds, or a forerunning host,

  31. driven by the wind’s whip, which urges it on—

    a swift-blowing gust, violent in its driving.

  32. Morning delivered its pregnant clouds as streaming paths,

    with abundant rain, while darkness impregnated its milkless she-camels.

  33. We call upon you when our union is split apart:

    come mend us, while counsels differ.

  34. If those branches are not set upright tomorrow,

    some of them will bend away and some will break.

  35. Do not suppose my words are flattery;

    my anguish at your distance exceeds what I can describe.

gpt-5.6-sol