Sol 5.6

  1. O you, in whose valley I laid down my saddlebags,

    and whose spreading shadows welcomed me,

  2. you lavished the utmost closeness can bestow,

    and every attainment a yearning soul could desire.

  3. You stretched the lifetime of your favors out like eternities

    for one who had longed for a few brief moments.

  4. I built my sanctuary; I chose

    no world but your love, in every state.

  5. Grant my heart an hour’s grace, until

    I strip from my eyes illusion’s mask.

  6. Grant my heart an hour’s grace, until

    I strip from my heart delusion’s mirage.

  7. For this desert is naked,

    stretching, suffocating, like the impossible—

  8. wanton by nature across her dunes:

    the wind’s drunken riot, the sands’ unbelief.

  9. Prayer for the heart within her is unthinkable,

    nor upon her is there temple or supplication.

  10. I shed my faith before her doubt,

    and the heavy night-roving clouds scattered it.

  11. The desert called to me—she who

    had seemed my hell through the long years.

  12. She seeks my secret; indeed, my secret lies here,

    in a sealed place whose mysteries cannot be reached.

  13. With this silence she said what had never been said,

    and with sighs I said what cannot be said.

Sol 5.6