1. Love's torment, when prolonged, did aggrieve you,
And seeking relief therein brought you distress.

2. So, after estrangement and censure galore,
You were sentenced by passion for sleeplessness.

3. Your lids, it appears, have covenanted there
Henceforth to know not the taste of repose.

4. O you, who inform me about a group
With whom the hands of Time are at close quarters:

5. Recount to me tales of them, for tales of theirs
I do love to hear told and retold.

6. A band, it seems, whose troops I imagined
As gleaming suns, as pearls of white flawless.

7. God! Never the day of parting have I forgot,
When he called me aside and invited me.

8. He summoned me to them, his sovereign
Right confirmed, to give them sovereignty absolute.

9. On the morn we set out, and our spirits,
As singles or couples, soared up apace.

10. I question a meadow of theirs turned desolate
Though they had but newly quit it in haste.

11. The red snapdragons fed it clear wine from goblets,
While the basil sweet breathe forth profusely and fades.

12. The narcissi tenderly, season by season,
Embraced it from Spring well into July.

13. Alas, my poor heart! How oft must I charge it
Not to break should rejection come nigh?

14. How oft must I adjure it, now they have turned
My affliction in love to proclaim and decry?

15. Shall I offer it Hinda, or Fitna,
Asma, or Su'ad for its mad desires?

16. For they are my idols of love, they who traced
Out its labyrinths twisty and torturous.

17. They it was who kindled the fires of yearning
Now scorching my lids that had shut out all cheer;

18. Who kindled fires a-flame with high flames
That consumed bridle and rider like fuel set afire.

19. They inscribed lines of passion, they only
Who made of my heart's blood the red of their ink.

20. By my life, were its secret revealed to a rock
Of solid stone, even that rock would run molten!

21. God watered the days of my youth from a vineyard
Of pleasures, whose vintage enraptures the mind.

22. Those days whose sweet tensions I oft did enjoy,
And whose goals in love's fancies fulfilled had.

23. Those days when I dragged in the dust the long skirts
Of my loose robe, and gave my fillies their heads.

24. But those days have verily taken their leave,
And no more beam their smiles on me.

25. All I see is a time become harsh and unfriendly,
Starkly unwilling e'er again to show me its grace.

26. As soon as I utter one pitiful peep of complaint,
It loads me instead with redoubled distress.

27. Estranged now, when once it would show me good will,
It plays me but sourly its charms to evince.

28. It sharpens its arrows and strips me of arms,
Then assails me in armor hideous black.

29. Thus I know very well its caprice though forbear,
Putting always my trust in the turn of its wheel;

30. For it yet may relent, and with kindness surprise me,
May yet turn the days in which once it took pride.

31. Oh, the feats of illusion that vanished away!
And no single bright day has it left as my stay!

32. For each man of mankind is Time's thrall, nor shall any
Contrive to escape from its prisoning chains.

33. Man's estate is as ashes when fuel is spent,
Or a ruin when bolstering pillars collapse.

34. It is wilderness, arid, where once did encamp
A rich tribe of nomads their black goats and white.

35. Seek you riches! Let nomads and luxury be
Your endeavour, but never a bare life of need!

36. Win victory! Make your own good fortune!
Command road and dominion! a king be acclaimed!

37. Spend freely your silver when means run distressed!
See high generosity as solemn faith bound!

38. A sapling at first, it shot up a tall palm,
Reached high on the ladder of glory though young.

39. Of generous breed, and its sires too displayed
Their worth down long lines in most generous kind.

40. A mansion he built, tow'ring to heaven, and raised
Its pillars from virtues his nature had formed.

41. To his foes I could proffer a deathly black draft
That would smite them with pallor and coal-colored fear.

42. And were Thamud and 'Ad bound against him combined,
I would scatter their throngs as though milling locusts.

43. Nay, in love with brave death stands no weakling who'd quaver
At friend or at stranger - no coward who'd flee.

44. So who dare vie with you now you have gained
Such a crown of high glory invincible strength?