Sol 6.1

  1. Your eyelids drew sharp swords against me;

    so they slew me and donned a robe of mourning.

  2. And they began to show languor in modest reserve.

    Have they forgotten that my blood is visible on your cheek?

  3. O full moon, my solace is like its dark phase,

    and its fullness and waxing are like my love.

  4. If your eyelid's abundant drowsiness granted me

    what it has to spare, I would not lament my sleeplessness.

  5. Cool your cruelty's heat with your saliva, acting

    in this in a way that is not customary.

  6. Or reclaim my heart, where you have infected me

    with a sway like that of your swaying form.

  7. And I marveled at the thirsty coming to a watering place,

    while its springs flow from the eyes of those who come to drink.

  8. I sent my gaze toward your cheek as a scout;

    so I learned what scouts' betrayal is like.

  9. They said, 'A bough upon a dune is his equal.'

    Have you seen how the envious fabricate lies?

  10. Who will grant my wish? If only you were like a bough, within reach

    of my hand, its blossom lying on my pillow!

  11. The reproacher said, 'I regard the sweetness of his promise,

    because of his deceit, as a kind of threat,

  12. like a lute sounding in an empty heart—

    so take comfort, if I contrive a way through reciting verse.'

  13. Do not reproach me: your heart is not in my hand;

    patience! Nor was my heart in your hands.

  14. And draw back from the sighs of my breath, which,

    were it not for tears, would have burned my visitors.

Sol 6.1