Sol 6

  1. O dwelling of Asma, you have lain deserted at Anshaj.

    Like a tattoo, or the guiding line of a writer spelling out letters.

  2. Every stony tract of it has lost its brightness,

    And every open hollow with its winding paths.

  3. Every rumbling noon cloud has swept over it,

    And a wind that weaves through the fine dust.

  4. Nothing of it can be seen except its familiar marks,

    Like ink in books whose writing has not been rubbed away.

  5. Once Asma could be met there, close by,

    When life was fresh and full of delight.

  6. A love that took hold between us has burdened me,

    Though neither longing nor need was fulfilled.

  7. In the days when Asma was slender and softly formed,

    Like a straight reed amid luxuriant growth.

  8. She was among the graceful women, full in form and slim at the waist,

    A delight to the eye, her radiant brow like the sun.

  9. And a draught of drink, untouched by breath,

    Beneath a cluster of blazing summer stars.

  10. I gave her drink while thirsty, his ears straining toward the sound;

    He thought none of his companions would survive.

  11. For youth was with her, and beauty flowed

    Through a life sweet to taste and abundant.

  12. Her locks hung in clouds until, when she was content,

    They fell long over her, free of disorder.

  13. The combs lose their way in the darkness of her tresses,

    Thick-growing hair, glistening with oil of ben.

  14. Her eyes and neck were borrowed from a gazelle:

    A white antelope, at home in shade, lent them to Asma.

  15. She smiles to show daisies at dawn after a night rain,

    Blooming on a broad, gently rising hill.

  16. As though her mouth, after sleep, had taken an evening draught

    Of grape juice mixed with snow.

  17. That is Asma: her manner keeps

    The base man away behind locks and bolts.

  18. She lifts her veil, despite what the veil conceals, just as

    A crowned ruler rejects counterfeit coins.

  19. May Asma be given rain, and may her pastures turn green;

    She is a prize to the wealthy and the needy alike.

  20. Though her departure has placed a distance between us,

    And the promised rain from her fails after dawn.

  21. O my two companions, look: can you make out for us

    Any camel litters between al-Aqiq and Awtas?

  22. They set out from the shelter of the two dark hills, or from Huqb,

    On powerful mounts looming like towers.

  23. Asma has gone and has not fulfilled her promises,

    Nor granted you the meetings she promised.

  24. So loosen the ties of longing for her affection

    With a long-toothed mount, striding like a great ship.

  25. Broad behind the ears, smooth of muzzle and well proportioned,

    Its flanks held firm, its gait never stumbling.

  26. So eager that even a light tap nearly sends it racing,

    Restless for night travel across the empty waste.

  27. It pleases you at an easy pace; urge it on and it surges,

    Swift in its raised, ambling stride.

  28. On willing legs that bear it proudly,

    With a chest whose shoulders ripple as it moves.

  29. It draws its steps together on level ground

    And winds smoothly through shifting sand.

  30. It leaves its saddle cloth behind, though no hindrance touches it,

    Firmly built, with sturdy joints and back.

  31. Its saddle seems perched upon a grazing animal

    That labors and twists through the dark of night.

  32. Scars from rough handlers mark the seasoned beast;

    It has spent the spring running and calling.

  33. Contests with its equals have strengthened its resolve,

    As have the solitary prizes and the herds it has won.

  34. Its lean flanks draw in beneath a hollow belly;

    Strong in its limbs, it stands high and sound.

  35. It spent the day in a stony wilderness, scorched

    By gusts of hot wind, with its companions among the clefts.

  36. They gathered round a dark-lipped, slender one as they stood facing each other

    On a day when a star of Gemini blazed.

  37. Until an east wind settled its ranks upon him,

    Leaving no space between his forward wings.

  38. He remembered a watering place deep in the hollows,

    A place he would approach, with its pools and paths.

  39. In those hollows his night journeys led him to roaring waters,

    Gurgling over matted growth and seeping through.

  40. He drew aside a white one, pale as fine cloth, guarding

    What she carried, though labor had begun.

  41. Hardship had worn her thin, and she had turned back

    Toward calves of mottled, reddish color.

  42. The sound of her urging call, with her companion beside her,

    Was like the wavering song of a homesick, drunken man.

  43. The cries of the gray ones joined their calls,

    While the dark night lowered its horns.

  44. Until, when the females ran far

    And lifted their feet through surging rainwater,

  45. A lively, strong-limbed male pressed after the two;

    The mark of a swift, fleet-footed courser was on him.

  46. He seemed to fly while the two did not turn

    Their bodies back toward the clamor behind them.

  47. A tawny female, with reddish lower legs,

    Looked as though velvet were folded into brocade.

  48. She stayed at a fearful place, watchful

    Until morning, with no thought of setting out by night.

  49. Then she set off at dawn, and her persistent companion followed;

    He climbed as his desire led him, fearful yet hopeful.

  50. He hoped for distant, pleasant grazing grounds

    Along the tracks of a rumbling, bewildered wanderer.

  51. Or he feared a flesh-hungry creature with sharp claws,

    Like two ivory points clenched together.

  52. They kept pressing onward through the dim hours, each faithful one

    Having spent the night among rugged places apart from her mates.

  53. Until their feet passed into a dark thicket

    Of the offspring of a far-ranging, tireless mother.

  54. Some of them drew aside there, a band shaped

    For swiftness, their throats exposed.

  55. They crossed it among hollow reeds at speed,

    Over a continuous, well-worn slope without breaks.

  56. They could see a loud, terrifying cryer

    And a wailer whose cry shook with death.

  57. An unencumbered Arabian tightened his mount's stride,

    Moving smoothly, like a young deer entering cover.

  58. Until they had fulfilled their desperate course, and their eyes turned

    Toward a dark shape like ebony.

  59. She pricked her nostrils and cast her gaze about, afraid

    Of the terror in the thicket, approaching cautiously.

  60. Hot and spotted, her limbs surged

    Over a great, dust-raising beast brought to water.

  61. Then the approaching end overtook her, and she gave way;

    Her wish to live could not turn it aside.

  62. A taut, swift-limbed creature followed her,

    A powerful beast ranging over rough ground.

  63. He and the fierce spirits of the herd seemed

    Like a gaming arrow in the hands of a player who wins.

Sol 6