Sol 5.6

  1. Eloquence cried out, alarming the fearful heart,

    complaining to the All-Merciful of the intruder’s guile.

  2. You disfigured poetry’s face with a princely office

    that rose to flatter every base, obscure nobody.

  3. And you bestowed titles upon every hypocrite—

    a worthless wretch, low in station, foolish and ignorant.

  4. You hurled a rock at the language of immortality,

    and it rebounded upon you with a bereaved mourner’s scream.

  5. You imagined that poetry was merchandise

    to be bought with vile, ruinous money.

  6. Poetry is indeed a trust, borne

    by the hands of eloquence, in the discerning poet’s keeping.

  7. The prince is not the one whom a clique has chosen—

    a clique that spends its nights demolishing every lofty edifice.

  8. The true prince is he who gives poetry its due

    and defends it against every reckless deviant.

  9. Do not claim to compose poetry when

    you have filled your lips with deadly solecism.

  10. Poetry is an edifice whose gate none may approach

    except a discerning master, neither insipid nor deceitful.

  11. It is eloquence’s emblem and badge of honor,

    distinguishing the inferior from the excellent.

  12. Love of prominence blinded you, so you plunged

    ignorantly into a momentous, daunting matter.

  13. Mere wishing will not bring a desire within reach

    unless seconded by prompt endeavor.

  14. Ask those who went before, if you wish

    to receive an answer that cures the questioner.

  15. ،

    You cast poetry into its shrouds,

    thus wronging a symbol—and how many deceivers there are!

  16. This poetry complains of you to its Lord;

    so await the decisive Day of Reckoning.

  17. O fools, do not intrude!

    Far be it that you should attain the station of the wise.

  18. Between the masters of verse and you

    lies a vast gulf no heedless fool can measure.

  19. So take your path toward some other pursuit,

    and leave the field to every worthy, accomplished master.

  20. Abandon lies whose true nature stands exposed:

    not one among humankind will pass them on.

  21. And feign at least a little modesty; perhaps it

    will cure you of the intractability of a deadly disease.

Sol 5.6