Sol 5.6

  1. They say, “You have wailed over the dwelling enough.”

    But I am not wailing over an effaced encampment.

  2. What reserve could tears leave, once they flow

    over every encampment, or over every home?

  3. I said, “Yes—these are dwellings I once knew

    as a lions’ den amid calamities, and a stronghold.”

  4. Now they lie desolate, their fellowship scattered

    by vicissitudes of a Time bent on sundering.

  5. I shall weep for them until blood mingles with my tears—

    would the two then form a strand like pearls set bead from bead?

Sol 5.6