1. My honor rests safe beneath my keen sword’s guard,

    And all my wealth was but spoil for my noble deeds.

  2. I attained heights whose utmost reach no star can gain,

    If it does not soar toward them on its foremost pinions.

  3. If a man feels no rapture in diversion and youthful passion,

    Then he is merely numbered among the beasts.

  4. What land have my fleet steeds not traversed?

    What maelstrom of battle have my swords not plunged through?

  5. Night itself is only dust raised by my battalions,

    And shooting stars are only flashes from my keen blades.

  6. My courage makes lions shrink away, and my resolve

    Is death itself amid the close-packed press of battle.

  7. Yet I have become submissive to love,

    For love holds dominion over every ruler.

  8. I am smitten with a tender, dark-eyed maid of pure Arab stock,

    Slender where the sash encircles her, yet full about the wrists.

  9. She has a glance that, if it entered a prudent man’s heart,

    Would leave him robbed of reason, no longer resolute.

  10. For her I obeyed passion, though it was tyrannical,

    And in loving her defied every compassionate adviser.

  11. How strange that I submit to her decree,

    When I am too proud to be led obediently by nose-rings.

  12. For my heart is free and submits to no assault,

    And my neck is unyielding; it bends to none who tests it.

Sol 5.6