1. I see my neighbor has weakened, and her advice has faded,
And love for her, were it not for ambition and longing.

2. Between us is an ill-omened unlucky star,
And I take it as an ill omen, the screeching of the deterring birds.

3. If you act wildly, the wildness is ingrained in me,
If you insult, your insults will not diminish me.

4. I lend to people, then pay back their loans,
Generosity, when souls are stingy with it.

5. Though my people have exiled me, so my home
Is in a land not mine, remote is its consolation.

6. Grudges have seeped from them, paining me,
And they harbor malice against me in their breasts.

7. So I said, “Parting from home is best between us,
Though one may dislike leaving an evil home.”

8. Yet I claim, because of their fathers,
When the claim is widespread and its proof is clear,

9. And I see my religion conforms to theirs,
If they perform the rituals and sacrifices.

10. And I know another status with the pilgrimage,
It has an area that cannot be reached by walking.

11. With your love, no matter if my people abandoned me,
My shelter if a north wind blew and its gusts.

12. When the stars set where the sun sets writhing,
With no lightning in the sky to illuminate it,

13. And the sun’s rays disappeared without a cover,
Save an impending darkness soon to overcast,

14. And a blinding fog rose, as though
It were a slipping sandal whose thong was severed,

15. When the milk ran short, many pots returned to them
In the cooking pot, plentiful its ladle.

16. Every guest and neighbor returns to it,
As the suckling camel returns to the milker.

17. In their hands are shrivelled and closed,
Returning with provisions for the dependents.

18. And frowning, whose virtue is not pierced by glances,
It has a lofty, very bright star.

19. It moves about, pouring poison beneath its throat,
Hateful to whomever its early morning surprises.

20. Haughty and scowling, shrouds of death,
With no comforter to relieve it.

21. We sent them an invitation—oh Lord of Malik!—
Difficult for it if it finds no comforter.

22. So we marched against them with the Tha‘labi surah
And our swords flowed upon them gushing,

23. And our spears thrust them with repeated stabs,
And our returning assault bloodied them.

24. Our millstone turned a while grinding them,
And circulated after their weeping was done.

25. Their hands did not destroy any of our souls,
Though they were generous, and we do not lament them.

26. So we said, “It is the spoils,” and made its forbiddenness lawful,
For it was protected before we bayed it.

27. Then we and they, all of us, parted bitterly,
Neglected are our wounds and their stabs.

28. When the dreams of a people disappear,
We yearn for our dreams, so we can comfort them.