Sol 6.1

  1. My passion is for you, O son of the blessed tree,

    Through which God spoke to His interlocutor among the messengers.

  2. So, if joined to the son of the udder after its knitting together,

    And after time had wrung out whatever weariness it held,

  3. I would see silver palms and fingers

    Bearing dye, jet-black in hue, that had not faded.

  4. And find among them Roman faces, topped by

    The Zanj's curly tresses, or the pupils of eyes.

  5. When the two come together for me, with them I feel no inclination toward

    The choicest kinds of cooked dishes, nor do I care.

  6. Two friends, two opposites: night's darkness and morning light together,

    A thumb-to-forefinger span of ground, or less, holds them both.

  7. So leave me to two companions: this one, night's white radiance

    In purity upon the dining board's ground; the other, dusky.

  8. This one is like a cheek marked by bites,

    And that one like a jet-black sidelock hanging down over it.

Sol 6.1