Sol 6

  1. Let him lament over his sufferings,

    And fashion verses from his tears,

  2. And chant his melodies reverently,

    Drawing their notes from on high.

  3. Do not stir within him the hidden griefs of a heart

    That sorrows have echoed in his verses.

  4. The mouth of time recounted them mournfully,

    So we counted his daughters among its narrators.

  5. Then they wronged their father and turned against him,

    Fearing no harm from his anger.

  6. They grew overbearing toward him without cause,

    And with their reversals laid claim to his resolve.

  7. They hurled calamities at him in his cradle

    And repaid his good deeds with grief.

  8. He and grief grew up as two children together, until

    He grasped the essence hidden in his lessons.

  9. Grief is the drinking place of souls

    Whom time has not tamed through its calamities.

  10. He withdrew from sight and came to spend his days

    At his place of prayer, lamenting his stumbles.

  11. To reproach the days is a kind of prayer;

    So leave him absorbed in his prayer.

  12. Kneel quietly beside his shadow,

    And listen to his outpouring and complaints.

  13. A figure that sends despair into the heart

    Through the features plainly visible in him.

  14. Whoever gazes at him sees an angel

    Whose light shines on every side.

  15. With his palm outstretched, he addresses a sovereign,

    His gaze lowered before that being’s majesty.

  16. :

    Misery has written a line across his cheeks;

    Pain shows itself in his words:

  17. ،

    ،

    His heart belongs to love, and his eyes to sorrow,

    While all his gifts belong to the world.

  18. He is prey to the events of the nights,

    And time is free to strike his hard stone.

  19. He folds in upon himself for the sake of the people of his world

    And meets the misfortunes of his age

  20. ،

    With a frail heart and a spacious breast,

    Calm, raising no clamor over his hurts.

  21. With patience he receives the sudden blows of time

    And complains to his Lord of its excesses.

  22. A poet whom God shaped from misery

    And marked with sorrow in his gaze.

  23. God granted him enchanting art, and he sang,

    Thanking his Lord for His gifts.

  24. The excellence of his verse did not come from revelation:

    Love and feeling lie within its folds.

  25. Nor did the excellence of his verse come from wisdom

    Flowing abundantly through it.

  26. A poet who mixes ink from sorrow,

    While silver melts from his tears.

  27. Then he drains the lifeblood from his heart,

    And it flows wet across his pages.

  28. His pen draws its ink from him,

    So he has no need of paper or inkwell.

  29. All his life he consoled himself with hopes,

    Without looking toward their obstacles.

  30. Everyone in existence gathers what they desire,

    While he is kept from reaping his fruits.

  31. O sky of imagination, be generous to him,

    And grant him inspiration in his utterances.

  32. Imprint him upon feeling, that he may preserve

    For you the finest verse in his memories.

  33. The temple of love was built inside the cage of the heart,

    Shaded by its ribs.

  34. The heart is a bell that longing strikes

    With the strings of its feeling, from its innermost parts.

  35. Then love overflows on either side

    Whenever the echo of its beats rings out.

  36. He makes the rocks hear his poetry and sorrow,

    And the rocks soften at his moans.

  37. Then they move to the rhyme of his verses

    And imitate the measured cadence of his voice.

  38. The birds of the sky learn from him

    When he sings his stirring refrains.

  39. The sorrowful poet lives on when he pours

    His breath, drop by drop, upon his pages.

  40. His today is as wretched as his yesterday,

    And perhaps hope is hidden in his tomorrows.

  41. When night grows dark, he watches the star in sorrow

    And sends his sighs toward the heights.

  42. The darkness does not depart, nor does dawn pity

    A grieving man whose steps death has drawn near.

  43. –

    If you saw him while night lay still and silent,

    The anguish of his cries would break your heart.

  44. Wandering, bewildered, through the unknown reaches of thought,

    He hopes for rescue from his foes.

  45. Chanting verses in the depths of night,

    Which the air carries away in its breezes.

  46. ...

    O my heart, when night envelops you

    And you tire of life in its darkness,

  47. And you yearn for morning, though it has gone astray,

    While a faint light lingers in its smiles,

  48. :

    Do not say, ‘O darkness, you have kindled a fire

    In a heart that melts from its sighs.’

  49. Perhaps night holds mercy for one in pain

    Whom suffering has drowned in its agonies:

  50. !َ

    One sunk deep in sleep, whose anguish grows

    The deeper he sinks into slumber.

  51. And when he wakes, he sees a dawn

    Whose gleaming radiance confounds thought.

  52. In dawn there is a splendor apportioned

    By the hand of our Creator among His creatures.

  53. It reaches all the worlds and leaves out no one,

    Not even a destitute person fallen into longing and regret.

  54. The joy of the universe appears in the morning,

    And life’s sweetness lies in its beginnings.

  55. While the sorrowful poet addresses

    His Lord, and morning brings its glad tidings,

  56. He departs the world of suffering, and his

    Soul flows forth; he is wrapped in the cloak of deliverance.

  57. So leave him to enjoy a long sleep;

    Perhaps death brings relief from his life.

Sol 6