My extreme physical weakness has made me the Solomon of this age, as even a gentle wave of the garden breeze lifts me up and carries me away.

In this delightfully witty verse, the poet draws on the legend of Prophet Solomon, whose royal throne famously flew across the skies on the command of the wind. With charming, self-deprecating irony, the lover claims to be a modern-day Solomon—not out of majestic power, but because longing and grief have wasted him away so completely that even the gentlest garden breeze is strong enough to lift him and carry him off.