Sol 5.6

  1. My two friends, turn aside with me toward my raptures;

    by God, I shall never forget my beloved as long as I live.

  2. Since love touched me, I have not tasted the savor of sleep,

    nor the wine-cup, save when my tears were the drink within it.

  3. Love’s ardent longings have gone whirling through my ears,

    as a drunkard reels beneath his bouts of intoxication.

  4. Indeed, through love of her she has left me as though I were

    Habanqa the Qaysite, wearer of the cowrie shells.

  5. Passion and love called her toward me, and so she sent:

    “God’s peace be upon you, attended by blessings.”

  6. She plays with companions of her own age; it was as though her eyes,

    on the morning we met, were the eyes of wild cows.

  7. I swear by Him whose House the pilgrims crying “Labbayk” have sought,

    and by al-Khayf, and by those who stone the Jamarat,

  8. that kissing her two cheeks and sucking her tongue

    is sweeter than the weeping pilgrims at Arafat.

Sol 5.6