1. May your hands water my homeland, and may, for your sake,

    the white clouds and the black bend tenderly over it.

  2. May you long enjoy a life delightful to the touch,

    whose freshness is lovely in the eye of Time.

  3. The remembrance of you grew sweet upon my tongue, and there glittered

    the beauties of verse, whose recitation grows sweet therein.

  4. And I swear: if I have been slow in coming to you,

    my judgment betrayed me—and so did its soundest counsel.

  5. Had I been the chronicler of my life, I would have begun it

    with the day when, through you, its festival dawned.

Sol 6.1