1. Alas, joy has slipped away, though it were but a breeze,
And youth has enticed me, though it gave but little ease,

2. And darkness has mocked me with its phantom sight,
Turning my gazing eyes to a graceful face.

3. One night has granted what many could not grant
As if in my bed there lay with me one chaste and slim.

4. I court eyes that have turned away,
Deceiving sleep or a woeful heart.

5. As though I have found no intercessor I knew before
There, nor a boon companion to cheer my longing whim,

6. So however bright the lightning may gleam,
I stay awake conversing with it, a constant friend.

7. And I ask, “Has it watered the traces left in Huzwa,
Has the rain been bountiful and the clouds brim?”

8. I spill my woes for the ruins of Najd,
The morning breeze of Najd I ask for news of him.

9. I had hoped to find him a leader, wise or forbearing,
But when I looked on nights that had gone

10. I saw none but the vile, the vulgar and malign,
A fool, a fraud, a fake, a wicked and mean churl.

11. I was harsh with the rhymes—for a noble man
Does not permit mean words to besmirch his pearl.

12. So my poetry takes flight only for one who is ardent, loving or intimate,
Gallant, generous, or one gracious and sublime,

13. Whom I strip bare as a polished sword when inspired,
And mount like a noble steed when filled with reason and rhyme,

14. When nightly misfortunes turn me to him
I do not cede him save as a close friend.

15. The foe has turned like a wind on a ruin
Blowing debris and kindling a glowing ember’s glint.

16. Behind the fires it flaunts its lightning flash
Radiant, though clothed in a cloak that is worn and thin.

17. Whenever darkness makes me tread on its heels
I dispel the gloom—so black, so dim.