يا دارُ مالكِ لَيسَ فيكِ أَنيسُ

يا دارُ مالكِ لَيسَ فيكِ أَنيسُ

إِلا معالم آيُهُنَّ دُروسُ

إِلا معالم آيُهُنَّ دُروسُ

O dwelling, what ails you? There is no companion within you,

O abode of Malik, within you there is no companion,

Except landmarks whose signs are worn away.

Except ruins whose lessons are clear,

الدَهرُ غالَكِ أَم عَراك مِن البَلى

الدَهرُ غالَكِ أَم عَراك مِن البَلى

بَعدَ النَعيم خُشونَةٌ ويُبوسُ

بَعدَ النَعيم خُشونَةٌ ويُبوسُ

Has time ravaged you, or has decay brought upon you,

Has time deceived you or has decay struck you?

After luxury, roughness and dryness?

After comfort there is gloom and dryness,

ما كانَ أَخصَبَ عَيشِنا بك مرَّة

ما كانَ أَخصَبَ عَيشِنا بك مرَّة

أَيامَ ربعُك آهِلٌ مأنوسُ

أَيامَ ربعُك آهِلٌ مأنوسُ

How bountiful our life once was in you,

Our livelihood was never as plentiful with you,

In days when your precinct was peopled and full of company.

As the days when your dwellings were populated and familiar,

فَسقاكِ يا دارُ البَلى مُتَجرّفٌ

فَسقاكِ يا دارُ البَلى مُتَجرّفٌ

فيهِ الرَواعِدُ والبروقُ هَجوسُ

فيهِ الرَواعِدُ والبروقُ هَجوسُ

May a sweeping downpour water you, O dwelling of decay,

So time has made you drink, O abode, a draft

Within which thunderclaps and lightning flashes murmur.

In which thunder and lightning wildly rage,

دار جلا عنها النَعيم فرَبعها

دار جلا عنها النَعيم فرَبعها

خَلقٌ تَمرُّ بِهِ الرياح يَبيسُ

خَلقٌ تَمرُّ بِهِ الرياح يَبيسُ

A dwelling from which luxury fled; its precinct is

An abode which comfort has deserted, so its dwellings

Worn and parched, with the winds passing through it.

Are a people blown by the winds and withered,

طَلَلٌ مَحت آيُ السَماء رسومَه

طَلَلٌ مَحت آيُ السَماء رسومَه

فَكأَنَّ باقي مَحوهنَّ دروسُ

فَكأَنَّ باقي مَحوهنَّ دروسُ

A ruin whose traces the signs of the sky have erased,

Ruins which have erased the celestial signs upon them,

As though what their erasure left behind were worn away.

So it is as if their remaining traces are lessons,

ما استَحلَبَت عَينيك إِلا دِمّنة

ما استَحلَبَت عَينيك إِلا دِمّنة

ومَخرَّبٌ عَنهُ الشَرى مَنكوسُ

ومَخرَّبٌ عَنهُ الشَرى مَنكوسُ

Nothing milked your eyes of tears but a dung-darkened campsite,

Your eyes have not shed anything but blood,

And a ruin, with colocynth hanging head-down from it,

And from it good fortune has departed, reversed,

وَمَخيَّسٌ في الدارِ يَندبُ أَهلَهُ

وَمَخيَّسٌ في الدارِ يَندبُ أَهلَهُ

رَثُّ القِلادة في الترابِ دَسيسُ

رَثُّ القِلادة في الترابِ دَسيسُ

And a captive in the dwelling mourning its household,

In the house there is a mourner grieving for its people,

With a tattered collar, hidden in the dust.

A lean hyena amidst the dust, miserable,

أَنِسَ الوحوشُ بِها فَليسَ بِربعها

أَنِسَ الوحوشُ بِها فَليسَ بِربعها

إِلا النَعامُ تَرودُه وَتجوس

إِلا النَعامُ تَرودُه وَتجوس

Wild beasts grew at home there; nothing is in its precinct

The beasts have become familiar with it, so in its dwellings,

Except ostriches roaming and prowling through it.

There are only ostriches wandering and trespassing,

رَبعٌ تَربَّعُ في جوانِبهِ البَلى

رَبعٌ تَربَّعُ في جوانِبهِ البَلى

وَعفَت مَعالمُهُ فَهُنَّ طموسُ

وَعفَت مَعالمُهُ فَهُنَّ طموسُ

A precinct in whose corners decay has settled,

Dwellings which decay has settled in its corners,

And its landmarks have vanished; they are effaced.

And its features are obscured, so they are vague,

يَدعو الصَدى في جَوفِهِ فيُجيبُهُ

يَدعو الصَدى في جَوفِهِ فيُجيبُهُ

رُبدُ النَعامِ كأَنَّهُنَّ قُسوسُ

رُبدُ النَعامِ كأَنَّهُنَّ قُسوسُ

The owl calls within its hollow, and answering it are

The echo calls out within it, and answering it

Dusky ostriches, as though they were priests.

Is the ostriches' clamor, as though they are cherubs,

وَلَربّما جَرَّ الصَبّا لي ذَيلَهُ

وَلَربّما جَرَّ الصَبّا لي ذَيلَهُ

فيهِ وَفيهِ مأَلَفٌ وأَنيسُ

فيهِ وَفيهِ مأَلَفٌ وأَنيسُ

And how often youth dragged its train for me

And perhaps the morning breeze has dragged its train for me,

There, where there was familiar company and a companion.

In which there is a familiar friend and companion,

مِن كُلِّ ضامِرة الحَشا مَهضومَة

مِن كُلِّ ضامِرة الحَشا مَهضومَة

لِحبالِها بِحبالِنا تَلبيسُ

لِحبالِها بِحبالِنا تَلبيسُ

Of every slender-waisted, slim-bellied woman,

From every concealed and ruined enclosure,

Whose cords were entwined with our cords.

With its ropes intertwined with our ropes, a covering,

مُتَستّرات بِالحياء لَوابِسٌ

مُتَستّرات بِالحياء لَوابِسٌ

حُلَل العَفاف عَن الفواحِش شوسُ

حُلَل العَفاف عَن الفواحِش شوسُ

Veiled in modesty, wearing

Concealed in shyness, grimacing,

Robes of chastity, disdainful of lewdness.

Wearing the garb of chastity, aloof from abominations,

وَسَبيئة مِن كَرمِها حيريَّة

وَسَبيئة مِن كَرمِها حيريَّة

عَذراء من لمس الرِجال شَموسُ

عَذراء من لمس الرِجال شَموسُ

And purchased wine from its vineyard, a wine of al-Hira,

And a young camel from its bounty, lost,

A virgin untouched by men, untamed.

A virgin untouched by the hands of men, aloof,

لَم يَفتق النُعمان عُذرَتَها وَلَم

لَم يَفتق النُعمان عُذرَتَها وَلَم

يَرشِفُ مجاجَة كأسها قابوسُ

يَرشِفُ مجاجَة كأسها قابوسُ

Al-Nu'man had not broken her maidenhead, nor

Al-Nu'man did not pluck her virginity, nor

Had Qabus sipped the liquor of her cup.

Did Al-Mundhir wet his drinking cup, nor Khusraw,

كَتَبَ اليهودُ عَلى خَواتِمِ دَنّها

كَتَبَ اليهودُ عَلى خَواتِمِ دَنّها

يا دنُّ أَنتَ عَلى الزَمان حَبيسُ

يا دنُّ أَنتَ عَلى الزَمان حَبيسُ

The Jews wrote upon the seals of her cask:

The Jews wrote on her anklets,

O cask, you are held captive through the ages.

"O she-camel, you are imprisoned by time,"

ذِمّيَّة صَلّى وَزَمزَم حَولَها

ذِمّيَّة صَلّى وَزَمزَم حَولَها

مِن آل برمكَ هَربدٌ ومَجوسُ

مِن آل برمكَ هَربدٌ ومَجوسُ

A dhimmi wine: around her prayed and murmured

A dhimmi who prayed while Magians bustled around her,

A fire-priest and Magians from Barmak's house.

Drinking cups shining when the veil was lifted from her face,

تَجلو الكؤوس إِذا جَلَت عَن وَجهها

تَجلو الكؤوس إِذا جَلَت عَن وَجهها

شَمساً غذاها الشمس فَهيَ عروسُ

شَمساً غذاها الشمس فَهيَ عروسُ

The cups reveal, when they unveil her face,

Like a sun nourished by the sun, so she is a bride,

A sun nourished by the sun; she is a bride.

The wild does gathered around her as though they

عَكفَت بِها عُفر الظِباء كأَنَّها

عَكفَت بِها عُفر الظِباء كأَنَّها

بأَكفِّهِنَّ كَواكِبٌ وَشموسُ

بأَكفِّهِنَّ كَواكِبٌ وَشموسُ

Tawny gazelles gathered around her, as though she were

Were, with their palms, planets and suns,

Stars and suns in their palms.

From every well-bred, high-humped she-camel,

مِن كُلِّ مُرتَجِّ الرَوادف أَحورِ

مِن كُلِّ مُرتَجِّ الرَوادف أَحورِ

كسرى أَبوهُ وأُمَّهُ بلقيسُ

كسرى أَبوهُ وأُمَّهُ بلقيسُ

Among them, each dark-eyed youth with quivering hips,

Her father and mother were Khusraw and Bilqis,

Kisra his father, and Bilqis his mother.

She is left loose-reined when I begin, and a servant,

رَخو العِنان إِذا ابتَديتُ فَخادِمٌ

رَخو العِنان إِذا ابتَديتُ فَخادِمٌ

وإِذا صَبوتَ إِليهِ فَهوَ جَليسُ

وإِذا صَبوتَ إِليهِ فَهوَ جَليسُ

Easy of rein: when I begin, he is a servant;

And when you incline towards her, she is a companion,

And when you yearn for him, he is a companion.

He hurries with a jug, as though its leather

يَسعى بإبريق كأنَّ فِدامَهُ

يَسعى بإبريق كأنَّ فِدامَهُ

مِن لَونِها في عُصفرٍ مَغموسُ

مِن لَونِها في عُصفرٍ مَغموسُ

He hastens with a pitcher, as though its straining cloth

Were dyed with its colour in saffron, soaked,

Were dipped in safflower, from her hue.

He gives you to drink the spittle of a lost young she-camel,

يَسقيكَ ريقَ سَبيئةٍ حيريّة

يَسقيكَ ريقَ سَبيئةٍ حيريّة

مِما استَباه لِفِصحِهِ القَسّيسُ

مِما استَباه لِفِصحِهِ القَسّيسُ

He serves you the saliva of purchased wine from al-Hira,

Which the priest deemed too pure for his eloquence,

From what the priest bought for his Easter.

Between Khawarnaq and Sadir, an abode

بَينَ الخوَرنَقِ والسَدير مَحِلَّة

بَينَ الخوَرنَقِ والسَدير مَحِلَّة

لِلهَّوِ فيها مَنزِلٌ مَطموس

لِلهَّوِ فيها مَنزِلٌ مَطموس

Between al-Khawarnaq and al-Sadir lies a settlement,

For dalliance, in it there is an obscured dwelling,

Within it, an abode of revelry lies effaced.

So the stream is redolent with its basil,

فالنَدّ مِن ريحانِها مُتَضَوِّعٌ

فالنَدّ مِن ريحانِها مُتَضَوِّعٌ

والظَهرَ مِن غِزلانِها مَدحوسُ

والظَهرَ مِن غِزلانِها مَدحوسُ

So incense wafted from its fragrant herbs,

And the back is from its young gazelles, trodden,

And the open ground was packed with its gazelles.

Time was inauspicious to its people so they split,

نَحِسَ الزَمان بأَهلِها فتَصَدَّعوا

نَحِسَ الزَمان بأَهلِها فتَصَدَّعوا

إِنَّ الزمَانَ بأَهلِهِ لَنَحوسُ

إِنَّ الزمَانَ بأَهلِهِ لَنَحوسُ

Time brought misfortune upon its people, so they scattered.

Truly time is inauspicious to its people,

Indeed, time is surely ill-omened for its people.

We lived in it in delight,

كُنّا نَحلّ بِهِ وَنَحنُ بِغبطَةٍ

كُنّا نَحلّ بِهِ وَنَحنُ بِغبطَةٍ

أَيامَ للأَيامِ فيهِ حَسيسُ

أَيامَ للأَيامِ فيهِ حَسيسُ

We used to dwell there, full of happiness,

Days in which there was a sensitive living,

In days when the days murmured there.

So time built upon it the structures of decay,

فَبَنى عَليهِ الدَهرُ أَبنيةَ البِلى

فَبَنى عَليهِ الدَهرُ أَبنيةَ البِلى

فَعَلى رُباه كآبةٌ وعُبوسُ

فَعَلى رُباه كآبةٌ وعُبوسُ

Then time built upon it the edifices of decay;

And over its dwellers there is gloom and frowning,

So on its hills lie gloom and a frown.

And a drunkard whose neck was bitten

وَصريع كأس بِتُّ أَرقبه وَقَد

وَصريع كأس بِتُّ أَرقبه وَقَد

نَهشَتهُ مِن أَفعى المدام كئوسُ

نَهشَتهُ مِن أَفعى المدام كئوسُ

And one felled by a cup—I spent the night watching him; already

By the serpents of wine-cups, vicious,

Cups from the viper of wine had bitten him.

Reason has tied his tongue, and his legs have failed him,

عقلَ الزجاجُ لِسانَهُ وَتخاذَلَت

عقلَ الزجاجُ لِسانَهُ وَتخاذَلَت

رِجلاهُ فَهو كأَنَّهُ مَطسوسُ

رِجلاهُ فَهو كأَنَّهُ مَطسوسُ

The glass fettered his tongue, and weakness overtook

So it is as though he is trampled and crushed,

His legs; he was as though struck senseless.

Madness has empowered him, so he wanders as though

سَطَتِ العُقارُ بِهِ فراحَ كأَنَّما

سَطَتِ العُقارُ بِهِ فراحَ كأَنَّما

مجَّ الرَدى في كأَسِهِ الفاعوسُ

مجَّ الرَدى في كأَسِهِ الفاعوسُ

The strong wine assailed him, and he became as though

The spittle were streaming in his accursed cup,

The viper had spat death into his cup.