1. Should I convey to the clan of ‘Auf ibn Ka’b
That a people of equal manners are there ever?

2. To ‘Uṭāridah and Bahdalah son of ‘Auf—
Can that bring about healing to your breasts?

3. Was I not a neighbor, so you drove me out?
Yet appointments came and invitations too.

4. Was I not your neighbor, whom you abandoned
To the howlings of dogs in your quarters?

5. I brought supper to Suhayl or Sirius
And long was the supper to me that night.

6. When I was your neighbor, you refused.
Ill-repute is the worst of abodes.

7. When I was their neighbor, they loved me.
Among you, if you wished, was affection shown.

8. When I praised that people, you said “he reviles!”
Yet reviling is not sanctioned for you.

9. Was I not one protected, while between us
Lay affection and brotherhood pure?

10. Yet I cursed you not in lineage, but in fervor—
Wherein listening to malediction is allowed.

11. Nay, Quray‘ did no wrong in daring
To build nobilities wheresoever they would!

12. Nay, Quray‘ perpetrated no wrong.
They built not that for any ill or foul intent.

13. That a neighbor of theirs stumbled, so they might aid
And restore him: breeds and cattle round him increase.

14. He builds his glory and settles amidst it,
While if a walk is wanted of him, he can walk!

15. For a neighbor is like a guest who comes early
Unto his destination, however long the separation.

16. And I’ve clung to the rope of a folk helped on
By affluence in repute, annals, and fame.

17. They share in deaths by giving of their wealth.
That is true loyalty in them expressed!

18. They give succor when crisis plagues the woman—
The helpless, if forsaken by her guardian.

19. They're the folk, if times bring darkness o'er some wretch,
Shed light for him till sights can be regained!

20. They're the folk whom you know, if the plea goes up,
And the banners for aid are lifted high.

21. If winter befalls the land of any clan,
Its coldness shuns their abode for sure.

22. So omit reproach against them, I do swear—
The Most High's blame is such sore evil!

23. For their meanest father, yours is the same.
In their breasts lies yours—pure, sacrosanct.

24. Their periods of ease are also such for you.
Their bounty and plenty: also yours, I vow!

25. Their now waning moon, for you is waning.
Their loyalty: yours too, bequeathed avowed!

26. You know well their tests—if tests can profit—
Meted out over days, the destined plow!

27. And many a weakness of yours they have mended
Beyond which among you there was no aid found!

28. With a throng so confusing to sight that the eyes
Still peer to where sky meets vacant horizon!

29. And when I invoked, for one I hated “ill,”
He came to me when my prayer was heard.

30. You surpassed men in two traits you inherited
As loyalty itself is bequeathed allowed.

31. You blazed with an ardor, a flood not restrained—
Deft mixing of propriety and temerity.

32. So too a lance of the keenest iron shine
You thrust, when thrusting cannot be foregone!

33. When his hands aggress toward a well-clad neck,
Checked by none, though chastised oft before.

34. Ummāmah said “Can you be consoled?” I said
“Ummāmah, consolation here is overthrown!”

35. If tears should burst forth from these eyes of mine
I say they're a speck—though in fact they're crying!

36. I swear your habit stays not, if one night falls
With events that match it there are none.

37. I've never seen a person whose ways remain
The same, however long his life's prolongation.

38. Death hand-to-handed wrestled him about,
Vanquishing him—and death has no destruction!

39. When youth departs and something of it yet shows
There is no tryst between it and return.

40. He yearns for life and covets it, while in
A lengthened lifespan for him is agony!

41. Of it: that a docile camel by him is led
When senility brings hardship, not affluence.

42. And of it: he rests his weight upon both hands
And rises in his rising wearily bent.

43. Decrepitude seizes him if it but leads
As a newborn weakly clings to his cloak.

44. He looks around to see his sons—poor shelters—
While shelter from them is what he sees behind!

45. He swears an oath to the sons of his sons
That they'll lie down thirsting—and they water-replete!

46. He orders the camels' loading, though night has come.
And nightfall is no matter to him at all.

47. When winter comes “give warmth!” he cries aloud—
An elder wrecked entirely by the cold!

48. But when all utility has gone from him
A light robe or cloak is his need instead.

49. The pregnant she-camel says “Please spare me, sir,
Your camel!” though no song is left in her.