1. Prepare my camel for departure, O youths!
For youth is a steed for the ignorant.

2. If I save my soul for a time,
I will lead it wisely in old age.

3. He who lives in the world without vice,
Shall dwell peacefully in his homeland.

4. When the heart grieves without consolation,
It is as though it were an abandoned abode.

5. Who but the hunter can stalk the gazelles?
If the wine of love intoxicates me,

6. I plunge boldly into the depths of passion,
So my heart remains busy with desire.

7. I avoided the thorns lest they deprive me
Of the joy of union and the pleasure of intimacy.

8. My tears exceeded my sorrow,
So I wept for those killed by love before me.

9. No ardent lover conceals his passion;
I say: I am like them.

10. My submission and humiliation are evident,
Though I try to hide them from view.

11. Oh my slayer! Woe to him that he takes
My life without right or reason.

12. Why not shed my blood when my friend
Grants you ample space for murder?

13. Away with the coquettish gazelles! Their kohl-lined eyes
Are veiled in the night of youth.

14. They glance slyly so their noble character
Will be hidden from me.

15. Had their Creator not intended me harm,
He would not have joined beauty with stinginess.

16. Cast your enemy violently if you want
To disgrace him before all eyes.

17. They attain the height of passion in gentleness,
And reach the extreme of earnestness in jest.

18. Drive them away violently, for their spirits
Are too noble for anyone to approach.

19. I almost destroyed him in punishment,
Had I not respected the sanctity of messengers.

20. Your pledges in the sand are now broken,
Just as one who builds on sand.

21. If you are bound by vows, why make
Promises you will break on the morrow?

22. Only bribery and corruption bind them;
No oaths of honor or sincerity.

23. How can I be saved when their necks, cheeks, and breasts
Have enthralled my reason?

24. When passion binds souls, neither releasing a hand nor foot
Can liberate you.

25. My companions, journey on until you halt
Your steeds at the ruins.

26. Let one go up to the hilltop and see
If the shepherds have rested with the camels,

27. Or if the tent pegs are hammered, or their domed huts
Raised upon the sands.

28. Or if the lost one sings a verse
At which the estranged raven falls silent?

29. I fear their encampment as a mother fears
Losing her only child.

30. If it is so, let them meet a guide
To lead the lost upon the right path.

31. Gently, for I cannot bear to carry what
Fate has loaded upon us with such weight.

32. He is the one whom all acknowledge
On the day of honor for his bounty.

33. His generosity has made the extravagant dowries
For marrying the words to the deeds seem small.

34. He gathered the outcasts in his abode
Until they called him the uniter.

35. In hardship and in ease he gives you aid,
Grants from much or from little.

36. Like the rain cloud that never fails to bring you,
In all conditions, abundant or sparse precipitation.

37. It is as if he inspired his hand
To destroy stinginess through generosity.

38. He planted a tree of kindness, exulting
In its shade and fruit.

39. And fountains - if their visitor is pleased
With drinking, he obliges him with more.

40. Thinking the voluntary has no merit,
And gratitude is only for the extra.

41. He shows enmity to none,
And rain is sustenance for the fertile and barren.

42. When the sky seemed to have
An impenetrable lock upon its gates,

43. They found the clouds closing in, exhausted,
From much journeying and play.

44. The generous deemed it unbefitting
To send forth only the ants' provisions in scarcity.

45. In a barren, ill-omened winter
When even infants spurned the breast,

46. His fingers were busy with a prosperous year
Cloaking the land in carpets of vegetation.

47. As if the clouds were unruly maidens
Pelting the messengers with clods of earth.

48. They have overreached, and those following
Stumble in the slipping of a sandal.

49. Had the heroes been granted his determination,
They would have dispensed with the Indian swords.

50. His ribs are bent with concerns
Created for decorum and disengagement.

51. None would claim his daring,
And if claimed, by the Sire of the Cub!

52. The rivals are not terrified by his fangs
That pierce them with penetrating stabs.

53. Forever, the slain by his logic will flee
From him to the footsteps and the blades.

54. Time looks askance at his adversary,
Annoyed at him with frowning eyes.

55. In his grasp, a silent thunderbolt
That stole its traits from the lightning.

56. It tastes the venom of asps, even if
It feeds on the honeycomb of bees.

57. Whenever appointed to resolve a dilemma,
It brings forth a decisive solution.

58. None can match him in responding to calamity
In which is separation from a spouse.

59. Alas! She will never find his equal,
The Mother of Falcons, few of offspring.