Sol 6.1

  1. Poets of the age, lend an ear to a brother,

    A man of pledges, remembrance, and generosity.

  2. Indeed, my excuse for composing verse is the excuse

    Of a grieving man who could not bear his secret and so revealed it.

  3. I compose verse for myself and for whoever

    Does not deem censuring the wronged permissible.

  4. And for whoever accompanies me on my path,

    Aflame with longing, drinking in the evening and morning.

  5. Within myself I have a beloved who holds sway;

    He has wearied my heart for his sake and found rest.

  6. Help, O companions—or pardon!

    The weeper bears no blame if he makes others weep.

  7. If I have filled the East with complaint and wailing,

    It is from the East that my sickness and wounds come.

Sol 6.1