1. From the ruins of Demen with lofty walls
Knowledge kept away long ago,

2. She was silent in speech and did not talk,
You wept - how can you weep for someone stoic?

3. Tears wet the eye until it trickled,
Then overflowed from the eyelids,

4. As if it weakened and flowed from
The tears of affliction from a flowing spring.

5. Dwellings where you see no remains
Nor graves dug for the departed,

6. No traces of homes, or places
But you may see the pens of fortresses.

7. They disappeared except for wall bases
Or low areas, their digging like the burrows of jerboas,

8. And his mother brought out Salma’s foal
For the curing of the injured, the fetus of the placenta,

9. Its features changed except for remnants
Far from the residue of a negligent, straying youth,

10.
Like the traces of mouflon, for it there is smoke

11. That darkened the bases of a steady hill,
As if the wreckage of the summer hut in it

12. Was the bedding of the essence of misfortunes.

13. I stood in it and it roared obediently
To the sighs of a homesick, sad soul,

14. The nights went by and he longed for his family
And thus he became broken-hearted.

15. And on a day of misfortunes I blamed myself
For them, almost reaching the peak of misery,

16. Stretching out when the hands of calamities
Clasped with a fist and bent with gentleness,

17. Misfortunes that I knew long ago
And they to the trustee are not treasonous,

18. The best parts of the high passes
Scrubs of the plateau, silent places of open spaces,

19.
Tall, with prominent necks over valleys

20. Tender, between virgins and helpers,
They whisper to me when

21. They sense the caution of a watchful eyelid,

22. As if the tents were aroused towards me
A flock of grazing sheep, blunt-horned,

23. Young female onagers took from it
The leading mares of promised and obligated herds,

24. A mixture of partridges gathered together,
Their bellies glistening white from being roasted,

25. So when they saw speech was difficult
Barriers lay between the admirer and me,

26. They crept whispering, cautiously from the passions
To me from the pits for the eyes,

27. They spoke a need and folded another
Like folding precious fine silk,

28. With the snatching of passion they connected from it
Reproaches that probed the joints of the sugarcane,

29. With one whose wolf creeps at his sides
Relics of pacts,

30. Darker in color than it
Like the color of the serpent of the lair,

31. It was chosen from the essence of a stone
And engraved between it was sculpture,

32. The beautiful one, mother of Jahm says to me
While the one with compassion can be pastured:

33. Do you not see people and money
Other than the prize of the owner of the refuge?

34. If I wanted I could make my body
To an open, bright-faced white one,

35. If she stands the drunk rises
From the bars in seductions, moaning,

36. But I am a captive of ugliness that pains me
Its shadows cover me and kneel in sorrows,

37. It remains circling above the edge of it
With its urine that cuts the fetus,

38. My misshapen, discolored thighs cover
The opening of the vulva of a dumpy, stocky woman,

39. Like the foreskin of the uncircumcised, its prepuce
With which the summers frowned like horns,

40. She passes by the couch when the hands
Measure the softness of the pillows,

41. Her left cheek hits it
When she tastes the power of a solid fist,

42. Like the gullet of a cat, bitter aloe passes through it
Like the passing of the easily sliding smooth,

43. This and that - if she is confined a little
She justifies it with the blackened palms,

44. Her hands built up to a support
Like the tower of the insane,

45. Little conflict makes her forearms
Avoid her like the whorls of a spindle,

46. As if after the people walked five leagues
I check the description, it shines with minarets,

47. On a plain with the daughters of Qayn
Horses race the suspicions of beginnings,

48. Some lead a mare and others lead
Light-stepped with deep eyes,

49. Tender, accompanying each other
With necks like the sails of ships,

50. One mounts the back of the camel again and again
Like the back of an untiring camel,

51. You see their lights gathered
On the balconies like dear friends,

52. With prominent nostrils the wind moans in it
The moan of longing in an old abode,

53. Its raven remains calling, its straying
A rebel against the hostility of the malicious wolf,

54. On Khuwla the mirage floats in it
So the thirsty one sees it from afar,

55. And a band I sent to the remains
Scouts like the nature of eyelids,

56. Fearing that sleep might show them
In their intoxication all delusions,

57. So they got up tearing apart nights
That firmly attached with its mists after eyes,

58. And the difficulty of the stay, I extracted from it
With my record a narration of a deep-rooted bowing one,

59. As if the steps of the moonlit night in it
Were the notes of its racing she-camels,

60. Necklaces that Yathrib excelled in
After Yathrib an excellent one of the valleys,

61. I surpassed its flock so the heads overflowed
Parts between muddy and clear,

62. You see the palates of its vanguard
Glistening like pottery,

63. For every medicine of it there are pouches
And a throat joined to a clay flask,

64. Ringdoves take the forest as a courtyard
When they call each other to the rain pool,

65. With wings they pass through like sieves
And necks calling to other than nests,

66. Wild pigeons approached their chicks
Young ones with yellow bellies,

67. As if their skin when it molts
Were the comforts of summer in the fleeing of ostriches,

68. So they preferred me, their guidance and obedience in confusion
With the similarities of appearances and plates.