1. I heard news of her death, deafening deafness,
Though the vile say it's no calamity.

2. My mother led me to graves young,
It's hard for me that she went ahead of me,

3. And I feel too old for my tongue to eulogize her
With words threading the path of food,

4. It's said so fangs are aroused, a saying
That tells her news of bones,

5. As if my molars were returned with a boulder
And nothing went through them but words,

6. And who am I to shape the meteors into verse
And dress her grave in an orderly composition,

7. She passed and I had just been weaned so I feel
Like an infant not yet weaned from suckling,

8. So O caravan of the deceased, is there no messenger
To pass her spirit the fairest greetings,

9. A perceptive one, camphor emanates from him
Like sealed musk at its finest,

10. Won't the turtle-doves wake me, companions of distance,
If they smell blossoms so I incline towards basil,

11. And ring-necked doves narrow their beaks
With what's in the breast of passion's disposition,

12. Yearning came over her necklace so it came undone
And its collar came loose with that separation,

13. She spread her tale and wept over her brother
So she became like the secluded dove,

14. She enticed you openly like Layla's token
And inside she is unyielding like Abu Hizam,

15. You asked when is our meeting, and it was said, until
The fallen rise from the graves,

16. And if they limited the separation by the life of an eagle
I would start counting the lives of vultures,

17. If only the caller on the day of judgement would call out
So the ruins roar back to the ruins,

18. While we travel in a lethal life
Where its people have shared the drink of death,

19. So time made me change and substituted me
With omission and assimilation,

20. No roses diminish the account of time
It has roses of blood like wine,

21. It busies itself with every thicket
With feathers over skulls and turbans,

22. It appeared calling the butterfly with its eyes
As she calls them, kindlers of darkness,

23. With two fiery ones, having taken shade
Towards two goblets or two bottles of wine,

24. As if the glance comes from Suhayl
And another like it, bright in the darkness,

25. It circles its land, the lions, the refugees,
Circling around the courageous king,

26. And it said to its wedding party, distance yourself three times,
For you have no staying in the burrow,

27. The pebbles have been tread upon by the pups of ostriches,
Young ones not yet fully grown,

28. You have taken the ornaments except for beauty,
You have seized the months of the year from the adorned bride,

29. No trace remains when he runs barefoot
Secretly in the roughness and prickliness,

30. Beloveds you reckon the banishment from them
Is beloveds that flew off the sides of the cup,

31. It peeked from the side of the goblet as if
To greet the faces of the generous drinks,

32. Thirsty, it almost wishes to be called athirst
When it breathes thirst onto Thirsty itself,

33. It walked to the horizon wearing a shirt
Like the cheek-piece of a knight pelted with blame,

34. Like Uhayha Al-Ausi’s coat of mail that dragged over him
So it is pulled through the coarseness,

35. He is associated with a people whose armours
Were born on them so they became like a burden,

36. Like a Muslim’s claim to increase the load
Of the long shirts in the visits and greetings,

37. And they are shed from them for maturation
Numerous in breaches from the arrows,

38. On its edges are the spots of demise
Adorning it, shimmering with thirst,

39. To whom shall I come when the calamities are burning
The tribes of Aamir - if only you were a year!

40. And they had become accustomed to the spear so it became
Their spears lighter than arrows on them,

41. As if a thin spear was increased in the palm
Other than one with an unstable stature,

42. The lands whiten when they rest
From what the remainder of arrows spilled forth,

43. And at night, terrors catch up to it
To the old man's leadership of the youth.

44. When they grow weary of travelling, every young man
Sees its prey when chance presents itself,

45. As if its eyelids are closed in pleasure
So they are not lifted from the slumber of sleep.

46. If only the stones of the resting-place lasted for a period of grief
Their sides would be girded by sorrow,

47. And its roaring torrent came to me, Hajir,
Crossing over from near to far,

48. Repelling the sneezes of young men arrogantly
Even if the turban is folded over the turban,

49. When the partridge showed the religion of Chosroes
And prayed while day is the brother of fasting,

50. And the starlings called the dawn prayer in their morning
A call to prayer without an expected imam.

51. Our waters receded except for tumult
When the watering places were gouged, chaos spilled forth,

52. So it escaped safely except for remnants
Upon the trace of darkness’ trace.

53. It has the heaviness of iron chains so it is steady
And the rising of flames so it is sleeping,

54. As if the hyena was a dormitory for it
So it swore to it over the loss of dens,

55. Its pillar lasted two months of spring
And summer’s heat in fervour,

56. A firebrand whose flame is the sword of afflictions
And its blade from the death of adversities,

57. And its edge is the sword of Hudham so there is no doubt
That the saying did not say the sword of Hudham,

58. The descendants of Shem, son of Noah, inherited it
Heavy in its sheath of pearl and mark,

59. And if only the lofty palm trees were as pliant as my body
Its load of your perfect, plump bodies would bend it!

60. Its irrigation from any irrigation suffices me
Until I almost consider myself among the ostriches,

61. And how many fathers you have who the nights
Marked the foreheads with the brand of the vile!

62. One passed and the banners are recognizable in him
Rich in branding without need for any lam-alif,

63. The departed quenched your thirst so no rushing warriors
Lengthened towards your abode with warriors,

64. While a drop like the seas, I am not pleased
With a drop that fell through the clouds,