Sol 5.6

  1. O Abu Hatim—neither Hatim, in his own age,

    nor the Nile, whose depths toss ships,

  2. was more bountiful in giving than you—nor that river

    whose crest, laden with flood-scum, overtopped the wall of ʿĀna.

  3. Your two hands: one gives lavish gifts—such is its wont;

    with the other you make those you fight drink blood.

  4. Were all you have given counted—every singing-girl,

    and every sleek, noble thoroughbred with long mane-locks—

  5. to ascertain what was tallied among those to whom you spread it,

    its reckoner would count it all until the Day of Resurrection.

  6. You are a man whom no gift bestowed today can keep

    from giving away some wealth tomorrow—you will give it.

  7. No man of merit among a people blessed with plenty has ever counted

    a favor like yours to me, when its consequences came surging.

  8. You rescued me from Khalid after

    his fangs and claws had closed behind my hand.

  9. How often the strands of your rope have caught someone back from ruin,

    amid an age that openly assailed you, with death drawing near him.

  10. You stretched strong strands of it to him; when he grasped them,

    he breathed freely in relief, and his distress eased.

  11. And a frontier stronghold the enemy shuns, as though,

    for fear of it, it were a blood-feud whose cavalry never sleeps;

  12. held by men who brandish spears where battle meets,

    its armored champions and fierce fighters held in dread.

  13. Through its passes you see the vanguards meet,

    each astride a lofty-gazing steed, its mane-locks flowing full,

  14. as though the tendon of its hock were set aslant

    when training has pared it lean and its flank has drawn in.

  15. It has a lineage that, among noble thoroughbreds, joins

    every renowned horse whose pedigree its genealogist knows.

  16. For it you rode both the easy and rugged courses of affairs,

    with unyielding strength, until its mounts were subdued.

Sol 5.6