عَفا المُصَلّى وَأَقوَتِ الكُثُبُ

عَفا المُصَلّى وَأَقوَتِ الكُثُبُ

مِنِّيَ فَالمِربِدانِ فَاللَبَبُ

مِنِّيَ فَالمِربِدانِ فَاللَبَبُ

The prayer ground has faded, and the dunes are empty

The mosque, the great gathering place of religion, has crumbled,

The prayer-ground is effaced, the dunes are desolate,

Of me—the two Mirbads too, and Labab.

As have the monasteries and the open plains.

From Mina, to Al-Mirbadan, to Al-Labab.

فَالمَسجِدُ الجامِعُ المُروأَةِ وَال

فَالمَسجِدُ الجامِعُ المُروأَةِ وَال

دينِ عَفا فَالصِحانُ فَالرَحَبُ

دينِ عَفا فَالصِحانُ فَالرَحَبُ

Then the mosque, uniting noble conduct and

I built them up over years of hard work

The Congregational Mosque of virtue and of

Faith, has faded; the courtyards and open spaces too.

Until my youthful vigor began to fade.

Faith is effaced—its courtyards and its halls.

مَنازِلٌ قَد عَمَرتُها يَفعاً

مَنازِلٌ قَد عَمَرتُها يَفعاً

حَتّى بَدا في عِذارِيَ الشَهَبُ

حَتّى بَدا في عِذارِيَ الشَهَبُ

Dwellings I had inhabited as a youth,

They were filled with young men like swords -

Dwellings I inhabited in the bloom of adolescence,

Until gray appeared in my sideburns,

Cracked by the flame of youth but tempered with discipline.

Until the gray of age appeared upon my temples.

في فِتيَةٍ كَالسُيوفِ هَزَّهُمُ

في فِتيَةٍ كَالسُيوفِ هَزَّهُمُ

شَرخُ شَبابٍ وَزانَهُم أَدَبُ

شَرخُ شَبابٍ وَزانَهُم أَدَبُ

Among young men like swords, stirred by

Then time turned against them, and they scattered,

Among young men like swords, shaken and unsheathed

The bloom of youth and graced by refinement.

Taking up the reins of fate in foreign lands.

By the prime of youth, and graced with courtly art.

ثُمَّ أَرابَ الزَمانُ فَاِقتَسَموا

ثُمَّ أَرابَ الزَمانُ فَاِقتَسَموا

أَيدي سَبا في البِلادِ فَاِنشَعَبوا

أَيدي سَبا في البِلادِ فَاِنشَعَبوا

Then time turned treacherous, and they split apart,

Never again will time produce their like -

Then Time cast doubt, and they were torn apart,

Like Saba's scattered bands across the lands, they dispersed.

How wondrous they were! Their memory amazes me!

Scattered through the lands like the hands of Saba.

لَن يُخلِفَ الدَهرُ مِثلَهُم أَبَداً

لَن يُخلِفَ الدَهرُ مِثلَهُم أَبَداً

عَلَيَّ هَيهاتَ شَأنُهُم عَجَبُ

عَلَيَّ هَيهاتَ شَأنُهُم عَجَبُ

Time will never bring their like again

When I was certain their company would not return

Never will Fate replace the likes of them, ever;

To me—never! Their story is a wonder.

As long as I lived, my heart was crushed,

Alas, their story weighs upon me with wonder.

لَمّا تَيَقَّنتُ أَنَّ رَوحَتَهُم

لَمّا تَيَقَّنتُ أَنَّ رَوحَتَهُم

لَيسَ لَها ما حَيِيتُ مُنقَلَبُ

لَيسَ لَها ما حَيِيتُ مُنقَلَبُ

When I became certain that their departure

I showed a patience no other has shown,

When I became certain that their journey hence

Would have no return for as long as I lived,

And misfortunes beset me from all sides.

Held no return for as long as I might live,

أُبلَيتُ صَبراً لَم يُبلِهِ أَحَدٌ

أُبلَيتُ صَبراً لَم يُبلِهِ أَحَدٌ

وَاِقتَسَمَتني مَآرِبٌ شُعَبُ

وَاِقتَسَمَتني مَآرِبٌ شُعَبُ

I endured with patience no one had ever shown,

Thus, when I lose a brother,

I wore out a patience that none had worn before,

And divergent desires pulled me apart.

No bond of blood remains between us.

And distinct desires divided me in pieces.

كَذاكَ إِنّي إِذا رُزِئتُ أَخاً

كَذاكَ إِنّي إِذا رُزِئتُ أَخاً

فَلَيسَ بَيني وَبَينُهُ نَسَبُ

فَلَيسَ بَيني وَبَينُهُ نَسَبُ

So am I when I lose a brother,

My tribe is Ghutayr, and my homeland the meadows

Thus am I: when afflicted by the loss of a brother,

Though no blood kinship binds him to me.

Of Al-Kharaj - a summer home, where grapes nursed me.

Between whom and myself no bloodline runs.

قُطرَبُّلٌ مَربَعي وَلي بَقُرى الـ

قُطرَبُّلٌ مَربَعي وَلي بَقُرى الـ

ـكَرخِ مَصِيفٌ وَأُمِّيَ العِنَبُ

ـكَرخِ مَصِيفٌ وَأُمِّيَ العِنَبُ

Qutrabbul is my spring abode; in the villages of

Their sap nourished me, their shade embraced me,

Qutrabbul is my spring camp; and in the villages of

Al-Karkh I have a summer retreat, and the grapevine is my mother.

And flames leapt high in the brushwood.

Karkh is my summer home, and my mother is the Vine.

تُرضِعُني دَرَّها وَتَلحَفُني

تُرضِعُني دَرَّها وَتَلحَفُني

بِظِلِّها وَالهَجيرُ يَلتَهِبُ

بِظِلِّها وَالهَجيرُ يَلتَهِبُ

She suckles me with her milk and blankets me

When the boughs swayed low, they covered me,

She suckles me with her milk and wraps me round

With her shade while the midday heat blazes.

So none could see what lay in my lap.

Within her shade when the midday sun is blazing.

إِذا ثَنَتهُ الغُصونُ جَلَّلَني

إِذا ثَنَتهُ الغُصونُ جَلَّلَني

فَينانُ ما في أَديمِهِ جُوَبُ

فَينانُ ما في أَديمِهِ جُوَبُ

When the boughs fold it over, I am enveloped

At night I stayed in a shelter, mourning

When the boughs bend low, she covers me with a cloak,

By a leafy canopy with no holes in its skin.

Like bereft women mourning what was stolen.

Lush and leafy, with no gap within its skin.

تَبيتُ في مَأتَمٍ حَمائِمُهُ

تَبيتُ في مَأتَمٍ حَمائِمُهُ

كَما تُرَثّي الفَواقِدُ السُلُبُ

كَما تُرَثّي الفَواقِدُ السُلُبُ

Its doves spend the night in a mourning assembly,

My longing and theirs rose up together,

Its doves pass the night in a funeral wake,

As bereaved women in mourning dress lament.

As if some mischief had made us rave.

Lamenting like mothers bereft of their children.

يَهُبُّ شَوقي وَشَوقُهُنَّ مَعاً

يَهُبُّ شَوقي وَشَوقُهُنَّ مَعاً

كَأَنَّما يَستَخِفُّنا طَرَبُ

كَأَنَّما يَستَخِفُّنا طَرَبُ

My longing and theirs surge together,

So I took to the breast that nursed me, like a child

My longing and theirs stir up together,

As though rapture carries us away.

Clutching his mother when gripped by colic.

As if a sudden rapture makes us light.

فَقُمتُ أَحبو إِلى الرَضاعِ كَما

فَقُمتُ أَحبو إِلى الرَضاعِ كَما

تَحامَلَ الطِفلُ مَسَّهُ سَغَبُ

تَحامَلَ الطِفلُ مَسَّهُ سَغَبُ

So I rose and crawled to suckle, as

Until I chose a lass from Daskarah,

So I rose, crawling toward that suckling-draught,

A child strains forward when hunger strikes him.

Whom the years and epochs had worn down.

As a child struggles to move when touched by hunger.

حَتّى تَخَيَّرتُ بِنتَ دَسكَرَةٍ

حَتّى تَخَيَّرتُ بِنتَ دَسكَرَةٍ

قَد عَجَمَتها السِنونُ وَالحِقَبُ

قَد عَجَمَتها السِنونُ وَالحِقَبُ

Until I chose a hamlet's daughter,

I unveiled her on a moonless night

Until I chose the daughter of a vintage tavern,

Whom years and ages had tested.

When the weaver of fates stirred in the gloom,

Tested and seasoned by the passing epochs.

هَتَكتُ عَنها وَاللَيلُ مُعتَكِرٌ

هَتَكتُ عَنها وَاللَيلُ مُعتَكِرٌ

مُهَلهَلَ النَسجِ ما لَهُ هُدُبُ

مُهَلهَلَ النَسجِ ما لَهُ هُدُبُ

I tore from her, while the night was thick with darkness,

Weaving a threadbare shroud, with no cloak,

I tore the veil from her while the night was dark,

A loose-woven fabric with no fringe,

No grave-niche in the earth, and no tombstone.

A flimsy weave that possessed no fringed hem,

مِن نَسجِ خَرقاءَ لا تُشَدُّ لَها

مِن نَسجِ خَرقاءَ لا تُشَدُّ لَها

آخِيَّةٌ في الثَرى وَلا طُنُبُ

آخِيَّةٌ في الثَرى وَلا طُنُبُ

Woven by a clumsy woman, for whom neither

Then I cinched her waist with the belt of chastity,

Spun by a clumsy weaver who fastens down

A tethering loop nor a tent rope is secured in the earth.

And she flamed up before me like fire.

No tether in the dust, nor any tent-rope.

ثُمَّ تَوَجَّأتُ خَصرَها بِشَبا الـ

ثُمَّ تَوَجَّأتُ خَصرَها بِشَبا الـ

ـإِشفى فَجاءَت كَأَنَّها لَهَبُ

ـإِشفى فَجاءَت كَأَنَّها لَهَبُ

Then I pierced her waist with the point of the

The forbidden draft was poured for the remorseful,

Then I struck her waist with the sharp point of the awl,

Awl, and she flowed out like a flame.

And the thorns of parting were our lot.

And she gushed forth as though she were a flame.

فَاِستَوسَقَ الشُربُ لِلنَدامى وَأَجـ

فَاِستَوسَقَ الشُربُ لِلنَدامى وَأَجـ

ـراها عَلَينا اللُجَينُ وَالغَرَبُ

ـراها عَلَينا اللُجَينُ وَالغَرَبُ

So the drink was ready for the boon companions, and

I say, as the two vie in their likeness,

The drinking order was set for the boon companions,

Silver and gold made her flow among us.

"Which of the two is golden?"

While silver and gold vessels circulated her among us.

أَقولُ لَمّا تَحاكَيا شَبَهاً

أَقولُ لَمّا تَحاكَيا شَبَهاً

أَيُّهُما لِلتَشابُهِ الذَهَبُ

أَيُّهُما لِلتَشابُهِ الذَهَبُ

I say, when the two mirror each other in likeness:

They are the same, but between them lies

I asked, when the two resembled one another:

Which of them, so alike, is gold?

The fact that they are solid, while I flow.

"Which of the two, in this likeness, is the gold?"

هُما سَواءٌ وَفَرقُ بَينِهِما

هُما سَواءٌ وَفَرقُ بَينِهِما

أَنَّهُما جامِدٌ وَمُنسَكِبُ

أَنَّهُما جامِدٌ وَمُنسَكِبُ

They are alike; the difference between them

Polished idols like her stand engraved,

They are equals, and the only difference between them

Is that one is solid and the other flowing.

With priests and crosses carved on them.

Is that one is frozen solid, and one flows.

مُلسٌ وَأَمثالُها مُحَفَّرَةٌ

مُلسٌ وَأَمثالُها مُحَفَّرَةٌ

صُوِّرَ فيها القُسوسُ وَالصُلُبُ

صُوِّرَ فيها القُسوسُ وَالصُلُبُ

Smooth cups; others like them are engraved,

They recite their Gospel, and above them

Smooth cups, while their counterparts are engraved,

With priests and crosses depicted inside them.

Is a wine-red sky with clusters for stars,

Depicted upon them are priests and crucifixes.

يَتلونَ إِنجيلَهُم وَفَوقَهُمُ

يَتلونَ إِنجيلَهُم وَفَوقَهُمُ

سَماءُ خَمرٍ نُجومُها الحَبَبُ

سَماءُ خَمرٍ نُجومُها الحَبَبُ

They recite their Gospel, and above them

As though pearls scattered by the hands

They recite their Gospel, while above them hangs

Is a sky of wine, whose stars are bubbles.

Of maidens roused to play.

A sky of wine, its stars the rising bubbles.

كَأَنَّها لُؤلُؤٌ تُبَدِّدُهُ

كَأَنَّها لُؤلُؤٌ تُبَدِّدُهُ

أَيدي عَذارى أَفضى بِها اللَعِبُ

أَيدي عَذارى أَفضى بِها اللَعِبُ

As though they were pearls scattered

As if they were pearls being scattered about

By the hands of maidens whom play has carried away.

By the hands of virgins carried away in play.