Sol 6.1

  1. By what came to pass at the place of farewell,

    O dwelling, will you not make your tale clear?

  2. Thought did not ravage her until you became a haunt

    For the effacing winds, which erase your corners.

  3. Where are the old days of the sanctuary in which we sought refuge,

    Among those I knew—and where is the tribe, now departed?

  4. Where the landmarks and ruined dwellings shone,

    Deigning not to take Orion's stars as dwellers.

  5. In days when I bent the luxuriant bough of a graceful form,

    And gathered many kinds of fruit from union.

  6. O dwelling south of the two Ghutas, which came

    To stir a lover's sorrows through remembrance.

  7. Will bygone days of once-fresh love return to me,

    Whose bloom I wore away upon your dwelling's hills?

  8. If the clouds' udders have failed the hills around you,

    I have tears that water your traces now.

  9. As though, pouring through the dwelling's courtyards,

    They watered the abode in torrents at the two Simaks' rain-season.

  10. And O youth, like a phantom that visited me and passed,

    Was I not the pupil of pleasure's eye?

  11. I recall in your abode the beauties of its haunts, among them

    A lovely-necked maiden, bestowing grace on beauty.

  12. Soft-eyed, among carefree companions of her age,

    She gazes at you with a gazelle's drowsy glance.

  13. Slender-waisted, early youth poured youth's fresh water over

    Her flanks, and beauty clothed her in enchantment.

  14. A tender maiden, whose hair-parting, if confronted by

    Night's full moon, would make it hide on the horizon, ashamed.

  15. Her smile reveals a dusky-lipped mouth, sweeter to my liver

    Than limpid water when I have arrived thirsty.

  16. I have not forgotten her as she stepped toward me to embrace me,

    While separation kindled fires in the entrails.

  17. At farewell she bent her figure toward

    A lover left bewildered by parting from his beloved.

  18. And the pearls of tears fell, scattered;

    While they seemed pearls, suddenly they turned to coral.

  19. She says, while departure's camels have been bridled,

    And tears run over both cheeks in a flood:

  20. 'By what came to pass at the place of farewell,

    Will you not, by returning, bring our homelands back to life?'

  21. I said, 'No, by Him who fashioned you as a human,

    Unless you seek refuge beneath Ibn Bustan's protecting shade.'

  22. Our master, chief judge of Damascus in al-Sham,

    Treasure of guidance, standard of beneficence, our lord.

  23. He came to the sanctuary of its radiant garden, and there settled

    Safety and good fortune; he safeguarded its dwellers' sanctuary.

  24. And the birds sang through its quarters before dawn,

    In a garden that brought forth roses and basil.

  25. Thus it became one of eternity's gardens, freely bestowed by

    Ridwan, seeking the All-Merciful's good pleasure.

  26. When a mountain of learning settled in its precincts,

    Everyone conceded his excellence in submission.

  27. Within his two knee-wraps, forbearance spends the night secure,

    When winds of rashness blow Thahlan away.

  28. The world's enticements do not beguile him,

    Nor is he seen rejoicing in anything but doing good.

  29. He trails a hem of glory to which nothing clings

    But chastity, with judgment safeguarded by his intellect.

  30. With an aspiration rising in the heaven of glory,

    That will not accept the stars of the spheres as companions.

  31. And a countenance the Creator adorned by His power,

    Making it the heading of the book of beauty.

  32. And a palm like radiant clouds in its shower of bounty—

    Were the rain-stars' barren lightning not treacherous.

  33. And fine character, adorned like the garden's blossoms,

    Were they sweet in fruit and filled with cheer.

  34. And a mind which, were it to travel through the night of an obscure question

    That had exhausted people's minds and ears,

  35. Would leave it unveiled before their understanding, revealing

    A long-lashed face, soft-eyed and sleepy.

  36. And speech which, if Sahban grasped it

    One day, would make Sahban trail the hem of speechlessness.

  37. Solver of difficulties, opener of locked matters,

    Unraveler, through knowledge, of what perplexes minds.

  38. O accomplished one, whose speech leaves helpless

    The Arabs' mighty orators, of Adnan and Qahtan.

  39. Yours is the reed pen whose swift movement mimics,

    As it moves across the page's surface, a serpent.

  40. At times we see it passing judgment on souls,

    At others, generously granting lives.

  41. My lord, O Kaaba of excellence, at whose

    Door hope's noble camels halt, bearing riders.

  42. And finest place to seek bounty, toward whose generosity

    The mounts of resolve travel in caravans, despite distant homes.

  43. Neither the surging sea, nor time lending aid,

    Nor the avenging lion, nor rain pouring down,

  44. Is more generous-handed than you, or more lavish in favor,

    Sharper of edge, or nearer than you in kindness.

  45. And take her: a slender-waisted maiden who has stepped

    Into the sanctuary of a scholar who accepts no equals.

  46. A sanctuary become the stronghold of desires, girded

    With the white and the brown: swords and ashwood spears.

  47. A treasure for its seeker, a garden for its scout,

    A sea for one who comes to it thirsty.

  48. A refuge for kindness, a dwelling for compassion,

    An abode of a bygone time in which my life grew gentle.

  49. Bough-slender, the Khatti spear of her stature never bends

    Without shaming branches in the garden's midst.

  50. She seeks acceptance and hopes for compassion from you

    Toward a man who has not tainted his affection with insincerity.

  51. The humble servant at your door, the son of al-Talawi, for

    The hand of faithless time has ravaged him.

  52. And my complaint is only against its sons, though

    I have alluded to them through it—discern what befell.

  53. Who but you can meet this need, O my hope?

    So grant me favor, and be my helper against calamities.

  54. And mend what the days have marred through illness;

    May you never cease raising an edifice to goodness.

  55. Remain safe and endure, as long as a star travels and

    A sun rises, and the garden's breeze stirs branches,

  56. And among the gardens of the two Ghutas, at midmorning, laments

    A turtledove of Muqra for its mate, mounted on a ban tree.

Sol 6.1