1. My master, O sea of bounty,

    O you whose benefactions are abundant,

  2. O finest of learned scholars,

    whose counsels suffice me,

  3. and piercing meteor of virtue,

    taking its lofty station in the Milky Way;

  4. O you whose radiances have become

    guiding lights to those astray—

  5. a little poem of mine has come to you,

    like a garden watered by a night-traveling cloud,

  6. till all its blossoms opened,

    like your own pure virtues.

  7. From your humble servant it has come, making its way,

    running toward your door.

  8. It seeks your favor—and sufficient for it

    are your favor and well-being—

  9. and hopes its purpose may succeed in

    a matter it approaches full of hope.

  10. You will deem it an easy thing,

    O you whose gifts are spread abroad.

  11. It is this: our master, who

    has mastered the exalted sciences,

  12. the noble scion of the branch of exalted

    glory, sprung from noble roots,

  13. from an Arabian family tree

    ever soaring in its loftiness,

  14. came to the book market

    after the second prayer,

  15. and graciously purchased, on

    the Commentary on al-Mawāqif, a marginal gloss.

  16. It has been your servant’s quest since

    the days of youth, and is my desire.

  17. Perhaps I may deal with my master

    concerning it, with the delicacy of a marginal appeal.

  18. Take it unto you; its verses were composed

    in an hour—or a second one.

  19. May you both remain blessed

    and in enduring happiness,

  20. as long as a ringdove coos upon

    a bough in radiant gardens,

  21. and the exile yearns for the homeland

    from far-distant lands.

Sol 6.1