1. Al-Mutanabbī departed from his people, lonely and aloof,
So after them is no hope for comfort or rest.

2. They journeyed away, and all joy between us is gone,
Only longing remains for the home they left behind.

3. That home - those who departed from it unharmed
By fate's decree would return to it if they could.

4. Since the departure of loved ones, I remain in sadness
Over the pastures - but what can sadness avail?

5. They were here, and now I complain, after they traveled on,
Of the ugly deeds of fate, and what fate has done.

6. If only a bosom friend would draw near, so I can complain
After our separation - pour out my soul, and he, listen.

7. My plaints could make even the deaf rocks weep
As my heart splits with the pain within it.

8. But the one I love does not love me, though to him
I am humble - he wants not what I desire.

9. Love has many causes, most of which are found
In what the eye sees, and passion.

10. O dwelling forsaken when its people left,
Changed by time - my tears fall upon it ceaselessly.

11. I weep for it in sorrow, and for those who went away
From it one morning - for whom shall I weep, and whom shall I call?

12. If my heart were as it once was,
It would not crack or break at times.

13. O heart, do not wake from love of them,
Nor recoil or retreat from their estrangement.

14. Among people, you will find in his affection a substitute
For the good things lost; among desires, expanse.

15. O lightning, your fire comes from my passion and my burning -
Smoldering among the dunes, ever blazing.

16. As if my sighs when adversity overwhelmed me,
Those heavy burdens, rising from my breast.

17. The camel litters carry them while they are distracted -
Wandering, speaking of loved ones, or silent.

18. When the sand dunes appear and uncover for them
The plains, the rain pools appear.

19. In ignorant chaos all is equal -
My ruin, and the helpless supplicant.

20. When you see them by the thorn trees, you see them
Gathering brush with the cantles of camels’ humps.

21. Our loved ones, though you left your lands,
And patience at your loss became impossible,

22. Think not that when fate has parted you from me,
That life remains for me -

23. That life is of no use to me.
Blessing, would that the days of passion could return!

24. I weep when a dove moans sadly in the thickets,
And time keeps the nesting place far from the valley.

25. With tears that flow each time the clouds pour down,
We have no fear though the vine deny its yield.

26. My love kindles violent sparks in every lightning bolt
That spends the night flashing among the clouds.

27. My tears flow over it whenever the ode’s meter encourages
My sorrow to pour itself into sublime cadences.

28. How much has my heart borne, and what is its capacity,
That it can bear more than its fill of them?

29. How much is led to those who rebel against
What patience remains in him - so he follows them?

30. After their departure from al-‘Uqayq, how great is my patience,
And how little I am content with apparitions!

31. Have I not a body that passion has destroyed?
How then can it bear estrangement and separation?

32. O poetry! I have been tempted by you, and I
Have expressed - though the truth is beyond expression -

33. Were it not for you, lovers would not know their way,
Nor would they have embarked on love as they have embarked.

34. I do not say this idly. Where is the composer, and who
Has excelled in its composition? Where are the masters

35. Of this art who have stood firm though factions and dissent assail them?
This is a poem that when narrated by the transmitters,

36. Will fly far on the wings of passion.
It was preceded by the steeds of poetry, which cannot

37. Catch up with it in its swift race.