Sol 5.6

  1. Even if weeping could bring anything back,

    to the mourner, I would weep for my falcons.

  2. Whenever Nawār moans, there flares within me

    a searing heat like the blaze of raging fire—

  3. the yearning of two grief-distraught souls whenever we remember

    our two hearts that lie among the graves.

  4. When the two weep for their shared camel calf, their crying stirs

    the breastbones of great, hollow-bellied, feeble she-camels.

  5. They weep in their own sorrow and grow agitated as they kneel,

    in sympathy with the anguish of a mother bereft of sons.

  6. As though the soaking-through of her tears

    were the pouring of two worn waterskins over a camel.

  7. My night is like al-Muhalhil’s night whenever

    the man of a short night wishes it long.

  8. A southerly one—as though northerly ones

    had weighed upon its two sides, keeping it from setting.

  9. As though the night were being counted against us

    by Dirār—or as though he wheeled back toward Nudhūr.

  10. As though its stars were post-weaning she-camels, bending

    toward a black camel, hamstrung among their kneeling places.

  11. Ah, how can one bear a night with no sleep in it,

    and no light shining for the one who keeps it company?

Sol 5.6