1. Welcome to a house whose inhabitants I lament,
The further you are from it, the more tattered it becomes.

2. You remained in it, writhing with anguish,
Her hands boiling above its ashes.

3. O you who rouse her passion, I reckon
I will be found dead before I lose her.

4. Stop for a while with her, spare me
No less than a glance with which I am provided.

5. For in the heart of a lover is the fire of passion―
Hotter than the fires of Hell, her coolness.

6. Separation has turned his once jet-black hair
To the white of an old goat from torment.

7. O you who censure lovers, leave a group―
That God has led astray―how can you guide them?

8. Reproach does not suit proud souls,
The nearest of them to you, the furthest from you.

9. Miserable are the nights I stayed awake from rapture
Yearning for she who spends the night asleep.

10. I brought them to life, and tears help me,
Her affairs and darkness help her.

11. Neither can my she-camel endure a rider,
Nor can I, on a race day, push her to exhaustion.

12. Her saddle-strap, her knee-pads and her bridle
Are her reins, and the Pleiades her guide.

13. The fiercest desert wind she outruns,
Beneath me, made gentle by her pacing.

14. Her back continuous with her belly
Like a tanned waterskin joined to another.

15. Hastening to Ibn Ubayd Allah are our high-bred mounts,
Their neighing and trotting.

16. To a knight who lunges with the spears, and whose
Watering-places in hearts have quenched their thirst.

17. He has outstanding favors to me
I cannot count, though I try to number them.

18. He gives without delay to mar it,
Without reminders to embitter it.

19. The best of Quraysh in lineage and most generous,
Fullest of bounty and most open-handed.

20. I thrust with the spear, I strike with the sword―
Its brown flash blackened.

21. Her horseman is the bravest horseman, her camel-driver
The farthest-traveling, and her master and chief.

22. The crown of Lu'ayy ibn Ghalib, it is he
Who gave her branches height and sharpened her point.

23. Sun of her daytime, crescent of her night,
Pearl of her anklets, chrysolite.

24. Would that I had been struck a blow made possible
As his Muhammad was made possible.

25. He left his mark on it and on iron although
His dashing one had left no blemish on his face.

26. It congratulated itself when it saw its adornment
With the like of him, though wounds may envy it.

27. People realized that he who planted it
Through his scheming would one day reap it.

28. His enviers woke up with their souls
Fearfully humbling him and exalting him.

29. The sword weeps for the polished blade when
It warns it will strip it bare.

30. Knowing it will become blood
And plunge it into the necks.

31. He unleashed it, so the enemy in panic
Curses it while the friend praises it.

32. Fire sparks from its striking,
And the pouring of the blood quenches it

33. When passions lose their way one day
Their tips seeking it out.

34. All creation has agreed for me
That you, O son of the Prophet, are its unique one,

35. And that yesterday you were a hot-blooded
Elderly Mādī, while you are its most virile one,

36. So many glorious blessings
You have cultivated, your birth was their origin,

37. So many needs you have granted
Closer to me than their appointed time,

38. And gifts of kindness walking step after step
To my house, repeating them.

39. They make my skin cling to my bones, so I cannot
Till death, peel them away.

40. Then return with them―I will never lack them―
The best prayers of the generous one I shall repeat.