1. The remoteness from his loved ones,
his time, his homeland and his youth grieved him,

2. so he wept, but weeping is futile,
only his soul pouring out in his sobbing.

3. If others’ tears bring relief,
his are the cause of his misery’s excess.

4. Tears that melted him, for the fire of his soul
forged him, and tears are but part of his metal.

5. O for a ship to Alexandria,
to delight him before death with its voyage,

6. and see the place of his youth and hunting,
his loves and friends and pleasures,

7. Where the coastal breeze visits him
and the meadows’ dew — the scent of his clothes,

8. Where budded the lips of the young women,
native, and the dew cooled their fever,

9. Till his friend rends his sleeves
and partridge broods break their cover,

10. And the wind tousles the fragrant herbs, arousing
yearning for what reminds us of him:

11. A blessed place it is, blessed his seat there,
where the youth of Sabb dispelled their cares,

12. Alas for that time, if only
its boulders were crushed and its hills laid bare!

13. Would that I might scent its breeze
and its graceful scene and taste its dust,

14. And that bay give me a draft
when its beloved’s shields glance bright and bare,

15. Serene, delicate, its length extended,
like a bared sword amidst its valleys,

16. As if it, as the breezes ruffle its surface,
were brocade embroidered with exquisite care,

17. Like liquid pearl engraven with traces
lightly engraved by a gentle hand,

18. Like the plaiting of a bride its channels granted
a leafyLoosened

19. bower its
where

20. its arches
arch’ssleeve,

21. pleats laid bare,
Where the branches are dancers, and turtledoves