Sol 6.1

  1. نأَتكَ بليلى نِيَّةٌ لم تُقاربِ

    وما حُبُّ ليلى مِن فؤادي بذاهِبِ

    A journey has carried Layla far from you, never drawing near;

    yet love for Layla will never leave my heart.

  2. مُنَعَّمةٌ تجلو بعودِ أراكةٍ

    ذَرى بَرَدٍ عَذبٍ شَنيبِ المناصبِ

    Pampered, she polishes with an arak twig

    the tips of hail-like teeth, sweet and cool at their roots.

  3. كأنَّ فضيضاً من غريضِ غمامةٍ

    على ظمأٍ جادَت به أُمُّ غالِبِ

    As though fresh-poured water from a cloud's new rain

    were lavishly bestowed, in thirst, by Umm Ghalib,

  4. لمستهلكٍ قد كان من شِدَّةِ الهوى

    يموتُ ومن طولِ العِداتِ الكواذبِ

    on one consumed, who from the intensity of love

    was dying, and from long, lying promises.

  5. صريعُ غوانٍ راقَهُنَّ ورُقنَه

    لَدُن شبَّ حتى شابَ سودُ الذوائبِ

    Felled by beauties: he charmed them, and they charmed him,

    from his first youth till his black tresses turned gray.

  6. وثنتينِ مما قد يَلَذُّهما الفتى

    جمعتُهما راحٍ وبيضاءَ كاعبِ

    And two pleasures a young man may enjoy

    I joined together: wine and a fair maiden with budding breasts,

  7. قُديديمةٍ التجريبِ والحلمِ أنني

    أرى غفلاتِ العَيشِ قَبل التجارِبِ

    a little before experience and wisdom; for I

    find life's carefree joys come before experience.

  8. وما ريحُ رَوضٍ ذي أَقاحٍ وَحَنوَةٍ

    وذي نَفَلٍ من قُلَّةِ الحَزنِ عازِبِ

    Nor is the scent of a meadow rich in daisies and chamomile,

    and trefoil, remote on a rugged hilltop,

  9. سَقَتهُ سماءٌ ذاتُ ظلٍّ فنقّعت

    نطافاً ولمّا سَيلُ المذانِبِ

    watered by a shade-casting cloud that left

    pools of water, the channels' flow not yet [text incomplete],

  10. بأطيبَ مِن ليلى إذا ما تمايلت

    من الليلِ وسنى جانِباً بَعدَ جانِبِ

    sweeter than Layla when she sways,

    drowsy by night, from side to side,

  11. تُلاعِبُ أتراباً من الحي مَوهناً

    فصارَ الخُطا مُستَرخياتِ المناكبِ

    playing with her age-mates of the tribe late at night,

    their steps grown languid, their shoulders relaxed.

  12. تلاهَينًَ واستَنعَت بهن خريدة

    إلى مَلعبٍ ناءٍ من الحَيِّ ناضِبِ

    They played, and a sheltered maiden called them

    to a playground far away, remote from the tribe.

  13. وبِيضِ حِسانٍ يتَّبِعنَ إِلى الصَّبا

    رسولاً كميعادِ العِتاقِ النجائبِ

    And many fair beauties, following toward youthful love

    a messenger, like noble thoroughbreds at their rendezvous,

  14. فأَقبَلنَ ما يمشينَ إِلا تأوّداً

    حِسانُ الوجوه ضافياتُ الذوائبِ

    came forward, walking only with a graceful sway,

    lovely of face, their tresses flowing long.

  15. فلما التقينا قامَ للعاجِ رَنَّةٌ

    وكُنَّ صريعاً من سَليبٍ وسالبِ

    When we met, the ivory bangles rang out,

    and they lay vanquished, plundered and plundering.

  16. وإني وإن كان المُسافِرُ نازِلاً

    وإن كان ذا حق على الناس واجبِ

    And I—though the traveler may be a guest,

    and though he has a right that others must honor,

  17. ولا بُدَّ أنَّ الضَّيفَ مخبرُ ما رأى

    مخبّرُ أهلٍ أو مخبرُ صاخبِ

    and a guest must surely tell what he saw,

    telling his household or a noisy fellow—

  18. لمُخبرُكَ الانباءَ عن أمٍّ منزلٍ

    تَضيّفتها بين العُذيبِ فراسِبِ

    will surely tell you news of the mistress of a dwelling

    whose hospitality I sought between al-Udhayb and Rasib.

  19. تلفَّعتُ في طَلٍّ وريحٍ تلُفُّني

    وفي طِرمِساء غيرِ ذاتِ كواكبِ

    I wrapped myself in dew and a wind that enfolded me,

    and in pitch darkness without stars,

  20. إِلى حيزبونٍ تُوقِدُ النَّارَ كلَّما

    تَلَفَّعت الظلماءُ من كُلِّ جانبِ

    approaching an old crone who lit her fire whenever

    darkness wrapped itself around on every side.

  21. تصلّى بها بَردَ العِشاءِ ولم تكُن

    تخالُ وَبِيصَ النارِ يبدو لراكِبِ

    She warmed herself against the evening cold, never

    imagining the fire's glimmer would show to a rider.

  22. فما راعَها إِلا بُغامُ مطيتي

    تُريح بمحسورٍ من الصَوتِ لاغبِ

    Nothing startled her but my mount's low moan,

    breathing with a strained and weary voice.

  23. تقول وقد قَربتُ كوري وناقتي

    اليكَ فلا تَذعَر عليَّ ركائبي

    She said, as I brought my saddle and she-camel near,

    'Away with you! Do not frighten my riding camels!'

  24. فجنَّت جنوناً من دلالاتٍِ منيخةٍ

    ومن رَجُلٍ عاري الأشاجِعِ شاحِبِ

    She flew into a frenzy at the signs of a kneeling mount,

    and of a pale man, bare at the knuckles,

  25. سرى في جليدِ الليل حتى كأنما

    تَخَزَّم بالاطرافِ شَوكَ العقاربِ

    who had traveled through the night's frost until it seemed

    he had pierced his extremities with scorpions' stings.

  26. فَسلَّمتُ والتسليمُ ليس يَسُرُّها

    ولكنّه حَقٌ على كُلِّ جانِبِ

    I greeted her, though the greeting gave her no pleasure,

    yet it is a duty on either side.

  27. فَرَدَّت سلاماً كارِهاً ثُمَّ اعرَضت

    كما انحازتِ الافعى مخافةَ ضارِبِ

    She returned a reluctant greeting, then turned away,

    as a viper draws back for fear of a striker.

  28. فقُلتُ لها لا تَفعلي ذا براكبِ

    أتاكِ مصيبٍ ما أصابَ فذاهِبِ

    I said to her, 'Do not treat a rider so,

    who comes to take whatever he finds, then goes.'

  29. فلما تَنازَعنا الحديث سأَلتُها

    مَن الحيُّ قالت مَعشَرٌ مِن مُحاربِ

    When we had exchanged words, I asked her,

    'Who is the tribe?' She said, 'A clan of Muharib.'

  30. من المُشتَوينَ القَدَّ مما تراهم

    جياعاً وريفُ الناسِ ليس بناضبِ

    Among those who roast dried hide: you see them

    hungry, though people's plenty has not run dry.

  31. فلما بدا حِرمانُها الضيفَ لم يكُن

    عليّ مُناخُ السوءِ ضَربَةَ لازِبِ

    When her denial of the guest became clear, it was not

    an inescapable fate for me to lodge in misery.

  32. فَقُمت إِلى مُهريّةٍ قد تعوَّدَت

    يداها ورجلاها خيببَ المواكبِ

    So I rose and went to a Mahri she-camel, accustomed

    in forelegs and hindlegs to the caravans' trot.

  33. تُفرّي قميصَ الليل عنها وتنتحي

    كانّ بذفرَاها بُزاقَ الجنادِبِ

    She tears the shirt of night from herself and strides on,

    as though grasshoppers' spittle lay at her ear-roots.

  34. ترى كلَّ ميلٍ جاوزته غنيمةً

    سُحيراً وقد صارَ القُميرُ بحاجبِ

    She counts every mile she passes a prize,

    just before dawn, the little moon now at the horizon.

  35. تخوّدُ تخويدَ النَّعامةِ بعدما

    تصوّبت الجوزاءُ قصدَ المغاربِ

    She strides with an ostrich's stride, after

    al-Jawza has dipped toward the western horizons.

  36. كأني ورَحلي من نجاءِ مُواشِكِ

    على قارحٍ بالمنصليةِ قاربِ

    As though I and my saddle, in that headlong haste,

    were on a mature wild ass at al-Munsaliyya, heading for water,

  37. حدا إننا من ذي حَماسِ وعَرعَرٍ

    لقاحاً يغشيها رؤوسُ الصياهبِ

    driving [text unclear] from Dhu Hamas and Ar'ar,

    milk-giving females, overshadowed by dark summits,

  38. مفدحةٍ قُبّاً خِفافاً بطونُها

    وقد وازنتُ جِحشانها بالحوالبِ

    heavily burdened, lean-flanked, their bellies light,

    and I had compared their foals with the nursing dams.

  39. تَمُرُّ كَمَرِّ الطَيرِ في كُلِّ غَمرَةٍ

    ويكتحِلُ التالي بمورٍ وحاصبِ

    She passes like a bird through every deep waste,

    and the follower takes whirling dust and flying grit as kohl.

  40. إلا إنما نيرانُ قَيس إذا اشتَوَوا

    لطارقِِ ليلٍ مثلُ نارِ الحباحبِ

    Yet the fires of Qays, when they roast meat,

    are, to a night traveler, only like al-Hubahib's fire.

  41. إذا مُتُّ فانعيني بما كُنتُ اهله

    لتغلبَ إنَّ الحَقَّ لا بُدَّ غالي

    When I die, lament me as I deserve,

    to Taghlib; truth must surely be held dear,

  42. إذا الحيُّ حَلّوا فرط حَولٍ بغائطِ

    جديبٍ مُنَدّاهُ انيقٍ لحاطبِ

    when the tribe settles, a year gone by, in a lowland

    barren in its grazing-grounds, a delight to a wood-gatherer.