Sol 6

  1. The cruelty of separation drove him far from his loved ones,

    From his time, his homeland, and his youth.

  2. So he wept, though weeping avails nothing; rather,

    It is his soul pouring out with every tear.

  3. If tears bring comfort to others,

    His tears only deepen his anguish.

  4. They are tears seared by the fire in his heart;

    That fire melted his heart, and the tears are part of what flowed from it.

  5. Oh, is there a return to Alexandria,

    So that he may rejoice in coming home before he dies?

  6. So that he may see the place of his youth and his roots,

    His loved ones, his companions, and its surging waters?

  7. There the sea breeze visits him,

    And dew from the sand gardens perfumes his clothes.

  8. The bright teeth of the estuary kissed the mouths of the breeze

    At evening, and the dew cooled them with its moisture,

  9. Until the anemone splits open its sleeves

    And the daisy lowers the fold of its veil.

  10. The hands of its winds caress the basil,

    Making it yearn through what it tells us.

  11. What a fine place, what a fine retreat,

    Clearing the lover’s heart of its ills.

  12. How I grieve for that time! If only it

    Had broken its hardest rocks to pieces.

  13. Would that I might smell its breeze,

    See its wondrous beauty, and kiss its soil.

  14. And that the gulf might give me a drink,

    Especially when the armor of its bubbles is woven together,

  15. When it grows clear and bright, and its pure tide becomes

    Like a sword drawn from within its sheath.

  16. As the wind inscribes its surface, it seems

    An amulet with the lines of its writing finely etched upon it,

  17. Like an engraved file whose patterned marks

    Have been softened by the hands of those who wield it,

  18. Like a palm weaver’s braid, for which

    Abundant fronds provide a finer weave at its heart.

  19. There the branches dance, and the doves

    Sing to the sweet piping of its waterwheel.

  20. The waterwheels creak, and the canals fill;

    Those channels brim, and its surging flood is released,

  21. Until its banks draw its sword

    Through streams braided among the grasses.

Sol 6