Sol 5.6

  1. A pasture where the roving eye may range—there is for it

    in imagination’s realm no measure and no parallel.

  2. I came to it before dawn, while the sun still drowsed

    within her chamber and the woodland doves were awake.

  3. Clouds were trailing between the reaches of the horizon,

    and breezes were making their way toward the meadow.

  4. The sky wore a dusky robe, commingled with

    a thread of dawn that showed, then blurred from sight.

  5. The light drew in, the shadows spread abroad;

    the birds rejoiced while the air lay pitch-dark.

  6. Scenes whose likeness, had Behzad beheld it,

    long bewilderment would have reduced him to stupor.

  7. It seemed the spreading trees were a palace, and its doves

    a bevy of graceful maidens paying it homage with song.

  8. Now they sang, now mournfully cooed—but what were

    that song, this lamentation, and this love-mad rapture?

  9. It seemed the leaves themselves were the sweet singer when he trilled

    among their flock—humankind drinking from them, made merry.

  10. I approached its grounds with a band of youths accustomed to

    true affection, among whom no suspicions ever arose:

  11. dignified and noble, never swept away

    by rashness, with no folly coursing through their character;

  12. each a vigorous youth, his spirit blazing,

    yet clear of mind when affairs grew obscure.

  13. If they addressed a man, they filled his ears with cultivated speech—

    they were its masters; and whenever they listened, they understood.

  14. Our drink was the purest water, mingled with nothing

    but conversation, wholesome as blossoms on the hills.

  15. For if restraint of the soul is worthy of praise,

    then in such a gathering even ravenous appetite is fair.

Sol 5.6