Sol 6.1

  1. Between his lips' dusky hue and the redness of his cheek,

    a mole resembled a bee upon honeycomb.

  2. I marveled at him—the Turks resemble him—

    how did his glance claim kinship with India?

  3. I became a prodigy in loving him,

    from my overwhelming passion for his curly sidelock.

  4. Between me and reaching to kiss his cheek

    stands a mail-coat of cheek-down, its links precisely measured.

  5. Suppose it barred me because of its greenness—

    how much power has spring to withhold the rose?

  6. I asked him, as fragrance wafted from

    his cheek at times, and from laurel:

  7. "Whence came this fragrance to the anemone?"

    He said, "From the dew of my fragrant mole."

  8. O you who blame me for tears poured out,

    they have scattered their pearls upon the necklace.

  9. The most wasted thing is reproach offered

    to one present in error, absent from sound judgment.

  10. Where, then, is my reason, O you who killed me by mistake,

    or my blood-money, if you killed me deliberately?

  11. I have an eye, yielding readily to the rein; it has

    tears whose very abatement is a flood;

  12. the Nile's rise is but a fraction of their diminished flow.

    Were they, then, supplied by Sa'di's bounty?

Sol 6.1