Sol 6.1

  1. May the rain—or my tears, scant though both are—water

    Her abodes, where love's injustice is justice,

  2. Where the small dune thins and the sandhill spreads,

    And where the curved dune reaches its limit and the sand ends.

  3. I multiply their descriptions, though they are one place,

    But I find their names sweet in my mouth.

  4. And in that adorned, curtained chamber is a gazelle;

    Every heart has a blood-debt to claim from her eyelids.

  5. When gusts of wind between her curtains

    Revealed to the eye's gaze what stinginess had forbidden,

  6. She met our glances with the folds of her veil

    And said to another woman, “A besotted man has no sense!

  7. Does his gaze frolic on a day like this,

    While our enemies are squint-eyed and our enviers cross-eyed?”

  8. And she stretched out her fingertips to lower the curtains;

    So her bearing and form flirted with us on her behalf.

Sol 6.1