1. بَرَت لَكَ حَمّاءُ العِلاطِ سَجوعُ

    وَداعٍ دَعا مِن خُلَّتَيكَ نَزيعُ

    A cooing dove, dark-necked, appeared before you.

    Your two attachments sent a yearning summons:

  2. وُلوعٌ وَذَكرى أَورَثَتكَ صَبابَةً

    أَلا إِنَّما الذِكرى هَوىً وَوُلوعُ

    ardor and remembrance, which have left you aching.

    Indeed, remembrance is nothing but love and ardor.

  3. عَلى أَن سَلمى لا منى مِنكَ دارُها

    إِذا ما نَواها عامِرٌ وَمَنيعُ

    Yet Salma's dwelling offers you no hope,

    when ʿAmir and Maniʿ make for her.

  4. وَلَم يُرَ مِنّا قاتِلٌ مِثلُ عامِرٍ

    وَلا مِثلُ سَلمى مُشتَرىً وَمَبيعُ

    No fighter like ʿAmir has been seen among us,

    nor anyone like Salma, bought or sold.

  5. وَظِلّاً بِدارٍ مِن سُلَيمى وَطالَ ما

    مَضى بِاللَوى صَيفٌ لَها وَرَبيعُ

    The two lingered in Sulayma's dwelling—how long

    a summer and a spring of hers passed at al-Liwa!

  6. أَعامِ دِني إِذ حُلتَ بَيني وَبَيَها

    وَإِلّا فَهَبها دِمنَةً سَتَضيعُ

    O ʿAmir, give me my due, since you came between me and her;

    otherwise, regard her as a ruined campsite doomed to vanish.

  7. فَآلَيتُ أَلحي عاشِقاً ما سَرى القَطا

    وَأَجدَرَ مِن وادي نَطاةَ وَليعُ

    I have sworn never to blame a lover while sandgrouse travel by night

    and palm-blossom emerges from Natat's valley.

  8. أَسَلمى أَلَمَّت أَم طَوارِقُ جِنَّةٍ

    هَواكَ إِذا تَكرى لَهُنَّ ضَجيعُ

    Was it Salma who visited, or night-roaming spirits?

    Your love lies beside them when you grow drowsy.

  9. وَتَبذُلُ لي سَلمى إِذا نِمتُ حاجَتي

    وَتُلفى خِلالَ النُبهِ وَهيَ مَنوعُ

    Salma grants me what I desire when I sleep,

    but in waking hours she is found withholding.

  10. إِذا ذُكِرَت سَلمى لَهُ فَكَأَنَّما

    يُغَلغِلُ طِفلٌ في الفُؤادِ وَجيعُ

    When Salma is mentioned to him, it is as though

    a tender ache were burrowing through his heart.

  11. كَأَنَّ الحَشا مِن ذِكرِ سَلمى إِذا اِعتَرى

    جَناحٌ حَدَتهُ الجِربِياءُ لَموعُ

    As though his breast, when remembrance of Salma overtakes him,

    were a flashing wing driven by the north wind—

  12. جَناحُ قُطامِيٍّ رَأى الصَيدَ باكِراً

    وَقَد باتَ يَعروهُ طَوىً وَصَقيعُ

    the wing of a falcon that saw prey early,

    after hunger and frost had beset it all night.

  13. فَما أَنسَ مِل أَشياءِ لا أَنسَ مَيعَةً

    مِنَ العَيشِ إِذ أَهلُ الصَفاءِ جَميعُ

    Whatever else I forget, I shall not forget the freshness

    of life, when those of faithful affection were together;

  14. وَإِذ دَهرُنا فيهِ اِغتِرارٌ وَطَيرُنا

    سَواكِنُ في أَوكارِهِنَّ وُقوعُ

    when our days were carefree and our birds

    sat still, settled in their nests.

  15. كَأَن لَم تَقِظ سَلمى عَلى الغَمرِ قَيظَةً

    وَلَم يَنقَطِع مِنها بِفَيدَ رَبيعُ

    As though Salma had never spent a summer at al-Ghamr,

    nor a spring of hers at Fayd ever come to an end.

  16. بَلى قَد رَأَينا ذاكَ إِذ نَحنُ جيرَةٌ

    وَلَكِنَّ سَلمى لِلوِصالِ قَطوعُ

    Yes, we saw that when we were neighbors,

    but Salma is quick to sever union.

  17. كَأَن لَم يَرُعكَ الظاعِنونَ أَلى بَلى

    وَمِثلُ فِراقِ الظاعِنينَ يَروعُ

    As though the departing folk had not alarmed you—yes, they did!

    Such parting from departing folk does alarm.

  18. غَدَوا وَغَدَت غِزلانُهُم وَكَأَنَّها

    ضَوامِنُ غُرمٍ ما لَهُنَّ تَبيعُ

    They went at dawn, and their gazelles went too, as though

    liable for a debt with no claimant against them.

  19. خَواشِعُ كَالهَيمى يَمِدنَ مِنَ الهَوى

    وَذو البَثِّ فيهِ كِلَّةٌ وَخُشوعُ

    Downcast like thirst-maddened creatures, they swayed with love;

    the grief-stricken know weariness and submission.

  20. يُراقِبنَ أَبصارَ الغبارى بِأَعيُنٍ

    غَوارِزَ ما تَجري لَهُنَّ دُموعُ

    They watched the gazes through the dust with eyes

    dry, with no tears flowing from them.

  21. وَيُحدِثُ قَلبي كُلَّ يَومٍ شَفاعَةً

    لَهُنَّ وَمالي عِندَهُنَّ شَفيعُ

    Each day my heart renews its intercession

    for them, though I have no intercessor with them.

  22. فَيالَيتَ شِعري هَل بِصَحراءِ دارَةٍ

    إِلى وارِداتِ الأَريَمَينِ رُبوعُ

    Would that I knew: are there, in Darah's desert,

    as far as Waridat al-Aryamayn, any camps?

  23. وَهَل بِخَليفِ الخَلِّ مِمَّن عَهِدتُهُ

    بِهِ غَيرُ أُحدانِ النَواشِطِ روعُ

    And in Khalif al-Khall, of those I once knew

    there, is there aught but lone, skittish, wandering beasts?

  24. وَهَل لِلَيالينا بِنَعفَي مُلَيحَةٍ

    وَأَيّامِهِنَّ الصالِحاتِ رُجوعُ

    Will our nights on Mulayhah's two foothills

    and their happy days ever return?

  25. وَلَستُ بِراءٍ مِن مَرَوراةَ بُرقَةً

    بِها آلُ سَلمى وَالجَنابُ مَريعُ

    I shall not see, from Marawrah, a stony tract

    where Salma's folk dwell and the country is lush.

  26. وَلا مُنشِداً ما أَبرَمَ الطَلحُ سامِراً

    وَقَد مالَ مِن لَيلِ التِمامِ هَزيعُ

    Nor, while acacias bud, shall I seek a night gathering,

    when a watch of the long night has slipped away,

  27. كَواعِبَ أَتراباً تَراخى بِها الهَوى

    وَأَخلى لَها مِن ذي السُدَيرِ بَقيعُ

    of full-breasted girls, all of an age, with whom love lingers,

    with a clearing in Dhu al-Sudayr left free for them.

  28. قَضَت مِن عَيافٍ وَالطَريدَةِ حاجَةً

    فَهُنَّ إِلى لَهوِ الحَديثِ خُضوعُ

    They had had their fill of ʿIyaf and al-Taridah,

    and now yielded to the pleasure of conversation.

  29. فَجِئتُ اِنسِلالَ السَيلِ أَقتارُ غِرَّةً

    لَهُنَّ وَلي مِن أَن أَعِنَّ ذَريعُ

    I came slipping like a stream, seeking an unguarded moment

    of theirs; a swift go-between served my approach.

  30. جَرى صَبَباً أَدّى الأَمانَةَ بَعدَما

    أَشاعَ بِلَوماهُ عَلَيَّ مُشيعُ

    He ran downhill and discharged his trust, after

    a tale-bearer had spread his reproaches against me.

  31. فَباتَت بَناتُ اللَيلِ حَولِيَ عُكَّفاً

    عَكوفَ البَواكي بَينَهُنَّ صَريعُ

    The daughters of night stayed clustered around me,

    like mourners gathered round one lying slain.

  32. عَفائِفُ إِلّا ذاكَ أَو أَن يَصورَها

    هَوىً وَالهَوى لِلعاشِقينَ صَروعُ

    Chaste, save for that—or unless they are swayed

    by love; love throws lovers down.

  33. وَما جَلسُ أَبكارٍ أَطاعَ لِسَرحِها

    جَنى ثَمَرٍ بِالوادِيَينِ وَشوعُ

    No thick honey of maiden bees, whose foraging was supplied

    by ripe fruit in the two valleys and moringa trees—

  34. عِشارٍ وُعوذٍ أَشبَعَت طَرِفاتِها

    أُصولٌ لَها مُستَكَّةٌ وَفُروعُ

    like pregnant and nursing camels, their foragers sated

    by densely tangled roots and boughs—

  35. يَرِعنَ لِمَسرابِ الضُحى مُتَأَنِّفٍ

    ضَواحي رُباً تَحنو لَهُنَّ ضُلوعُ

    they return to fresh forenoon grazing-grounds,

    on exposed hillocks whose ribs curve round them.

  36. إِذا ما تَأَوَّت بِالخَلِيِّ بَنَت بِهِ

    شَريجَينِ مِمّا تَأتَري وَتُتيعُ

    When they gather in a hollow, they build there

    paired combs from what they gather and pour out.

  37. إِذا لَم تَجِد بِالسَهلِ رِعياً تَطَرَّقَت

    شَماريخَ لَم يَنعِق بِهِنَّ مُشيعُ

    If they find no pasture on the plain, they seek out

    peaks where no herdsman's cry has sounded.

  38. مَتى ما تُرِدها لا تَنَلها وَدونَها

    دُروءٌ تَرُدُّ العِفرَ وَهوَ رَجيعُ

    Whenever you seek it, you cannot reach it; before it

    are crags that turn back even a crafty, seasoned climber.

  39. تَرى بِدَنَ الأَروى بِها كُلَّ شارِقٍ

    لَهُ كُنُنٌ مِن دونِها وَسُلوعُ

    There you see the full-grown ibex at every sunrise,

    with shelters below it and rocky clefts.

  40. يَحُكُّ صَلاهُ عَقرَباهُ وَيَقتَري

    مَسايِلَ خُضراً بَينَهُنَّ وَقيعُ

    It scratches its rump with its two horn-tips and follows

    green watercourses with rock-pools among them.

  41. إِذا مارَ جُلُ اليَومِ راحَت وَبَعضُها

    إِلى الحَيِّ بَعضاً كَالصِلالِ يَصوعُ

    When most of the day has passed, they return, some

    driving others toward the hive like snakes.

  42. تَبيتُ بِأَجباحٍ لَدى الحَيِّ شَثنَةً

    وَتَحي بِجَرِّ الهَضبِ وَهيَ رُتوعُ

    Rough-bodied, they spend the night in hives beside the tribe,

    and live, freely grazing, at the feet of rocky hills—

  43. مُخَضَّرَةِ الأَوساطِ عارِيَةِ الشَوى

    وَبِالهامِ مِنها نَظرَةٌ وَشُنوعُ

    green-waisted, bare of limbs,

    their heads showing a forbidding cast and ugliness.

  44. بِماءِ سَماءٍ غادَرَتهُ سَحابَةٌ

    كَمَتنِ اليَماني سُلَّ وَهوَ صَنيعُ

    Mixed with rainwater left behind by a cloud,

    like the blade of a well-wrought Yemeni sword drawn bare,

  45. بِأَطيَبَ مِن فيها إِذا ما تَقَلَّبَت

    مِنَ اللَيلِ وَسنى وَالعُيونُ هُجوعُ

    it is no sweeter than her mouth when she turns

    drowsily in the night, while eyes lie sleeping.

  46. وَمُستَأنِسٍ بِالقَفرِ راحَ تَلُفُّهُ

    طَبائِخُ شَمسٍ وَقعُهُنَّ سَفوعُ

    And a wanderer at home in the wilderness, wrapped as he goes

    in scorching shafts of sun whose touch sears—

  47. تُنَشِّفُ أَوشالَ النِطافِ وَدونَها

    كُلى عِجَلٍ مَكتوبُهُنَّ وَكيعُ

    they dry up the scant remnants of water, though guarding them

    are kidney-shaped calfskin bags, their stitching firm.

  48. يَظَلُّ يُساميها إِذا وَقَدَ الحَصى

    وَقادَ مَليعٌ طَرفَهُ وَمَليعُ

    He keeps vying with them when the pebbles burn,

    and one waste after another draws his gaze.

  49. يَبُلُّ بِمَعصورٍ جَناحَي ضَئيلَةٍ

    أَفاويقَ مِنها هَلَّةٌ وَنُقوعُ

    He wets with squeezed-out liquid the sides of a little skin,

    in small draughts, some pouring, some soaking,

  50. كَما بَلَّ مَثنى طُفيَةٍ نَضحُ عائِطٍ

    يُزَيِّنُها كِنُّ لَها وَسُفوعُ

    as a lofty crag's seepage wets a folded palm-leaf,

    adorned by shelter and dark markings.

  51. وَمَنزِلَةٍ تَغدو بها الشَمسُ حاسِراً

    إِذا ذَرَّ مِنها بِالغَداةِ طُلوعُ

    And many a stopping-place where the sun goes bare

    when its rising breaks forth in the morning:

  52. كَأَنَّ الصُوى فيها إِذا ما اِستَخَلتَها

    عَقيرٌ بِمُستَنَّ السِرابِ يَكوعُ

    its cairns, when you look upon its emptiness, seem

    a hamstrung camel kneeling in the mirage's course.

  53. تَرى العينَ فيها مِن لَدُن مَتَعَ الضُحى

    إِلى اللَيلِ في الغَيضاتِ وَهيَ هُكوعُ

    You see the wild cattle there, from high forenoon

    until night, lying down in thickets,

  54. تَقَمَّعُ في أَظلالِ مُحنِطَةِ الجَنى

    صحاحَ المَآقي ما بِهِنَّ قُموعُ

    huddled in the shadows of trees with ripening fruit,

    sound-eyed, with no sickness in their eye-corners.

  55. تُلاوِذُ مِن حَرِّ يَكادُ أُوَارهُ

    يُذيبُ دِماغَ الضَبّ وَهوَ خَدوعُ

    They seek refuge from heat whose blaze almost

    melts the lizard's brain, wily burrower though it is.

  56. إِذا اِختَلَطَ الرِتاكُ مالَت سَراتُهُ

    عَلى يَسَراتٍ أَو بُهُنَّ ذَريعُ

    When the camel's trotting strides run together, its back sways

    on nimble legs, or stretches into a rapid pace.

  57. تَقَلقَلَ شهراً دَائِماً كُلَّ لَيلَةٍ

    تَضُمُّ بَوانيهِ عُرىً وَنُسوعُ

    For a whole month it has been jolted, every night

    its frame clasped by loops and girths.

  58. وَقَد آلَ مِن أَشرافِهِ وَتَجَرَّمَت

    مِنَ الضَمِّ أَنساءٌ لَهُ وَبَضيعُ

    Its high parts have dwindled; worn away

    by hunger are its thigh-sinews and flesh.

  59. فَعَرَّستُ لَمّا اِستَسلَمَت بَعدَ شَأوِهِ

    تَنَائِفُ ما نَجا بِهِنَّ هَجوعُ

    I halted to sleep when, after its long course, there yielded

    wastes through which no sleeper could escape.

  60. تَأَوَّبَني فيها عَلى غَيرِ مَوعِدٍ

    أَخو قَفرَةٍ يَضحى بِها وَيَجوعُ

    There, without appointment, there came to me by night

    a brother of the wilderness, who spends his days there hungry:

  61. مِنَ الزُلِّ هِزلاجٌ كَأَنَّ بِرِجلِهِ

    شِكالاً مِنَ الإِقعاءِ وَهوَ مَلوعُ

    a swift, lean-haunched wolf, as though upon its leg

    were a hobble from crouching, though it was fleet.

  62. كَذي الظَنِّ لا يَنفَكُّ عَوضُ كَأَنَّهُ

    أَخو جَهرَةٍ بِالعَينِ وَهوَ خُدوعُ

    Like one suspicious, never at ease, forever as though

    its eyes were dazzled—yet it was sly.

  63. فَأَلقَيتُ رَحلي وَاِحزَأَلَّ كَأَنَّهُ

    شَفاً مُجنَحٌ في مُحَناهُ ضُجوعُ

    I threw down my saddle, and it crouched together, like

    a slanting crag lying on its side in a hollow.

  64. فَقُلتُ تَعَلَّم يا ذُؤالَ وَلا تَخُن

    وَلا تَنخَنِع لِلَيلِ وَهوَ خَنوعُ

    I said, 'Know this, Dhuʾal: do not betray me.

    Do not cower before the night, treacherous though it is.

  65. وَلا تَعوِ وَاِستَحرِز وَإِن تَعوِ عَيَّةً

    تُصادِف قَرى الظَلماءِ وَهوَ شَنيعُ

    Do not howl; guard yourself. If you howl in folly,

    you will meet the darkness's hospitality—and it is dreadful.'

  66. فَلَمّا عَوى لِفتَ الشِمالِ سَبَعتُهُ

    كَما أَنا أَحياناً لَهُنَّ سَبوعُ

    When it howled toward the north wind, I turned beast upon it,

    as at times I prey upon its kind.

  67. دَفَعتُ إِلَيهِ سَلجَمَ اللَحيِ نَصلُهُ

    كَبادِرَةِ الحُوّاءِ وَهوَ وَقيعُ

    I drove toward it a long-jawed arrow, its head

    like a black snake's darting tongue, keenly tempered.

  68. تَزَلزَلَ عَن فَرعٍ كَأَنَّ مُتونَها

    بِها مِن عَبيطِ الزَعفرانِ رُدوعُ

    It sprang quivering from a branch-bow whose back seemed

    blotched with fresh saffron.

  69. مِنَ المُرزِماتِ المُلسِ لَم تُكسَ جُلبَةً

    وَلَكِن لَها إِظنابَةٌ وَرَصيعُ

    One of the smooth, twanging bows, given no hide covering,

    but fitted with binding and fastenings;

  70. فَراغٌ عَواري اللَيطِ تُكسى ظُباتُها

    سَبائِبَ مِنها جاسِدٌ وَنَجيعُ

    broad-curved, bare of bark, its arrowheads clothed

    in streamers of blood, some clotted and some fresh.

  71. هَتوفٌ عَوى مِن جانِبَيها مُحَدرَجٌ

    مُمَرٌّ كَحُلقومِ القَطاةِ بَديعُ

    Loud-voiced: from its two sides howled a rounded,

    tightly twisted, new cord, like a sandgrouse's throat.

  72. إِذا اِختَلَجَتها مُنجَياتٌ كَأَنَّها

    صُدورُ عَراقٍ ما بِهِنَّ قُطوعُ

    When deft fingers jerk it, resembling

    the ends of flesh-stripped bones, without a break,

  73. أَرَنَّت رَنيناً يَدلِقُ السَهمَ حَفزُها

    إِذا حانَ مِنهُ بِالرَمِيِّ وُقوعُ

    it rings out, its thrust driving the arrow forth

    when the moment has come for the shot to strike.

  74. وَإِن عادَ فيها النَزعُ تَأبى بِصُلبِها

    وَتُقبِلُ مِن أَقطارِها فَتُطيعُ

    When the draw is repeated, its stiff middle resists,

    but it bends at its ends and so obeys.

  75. يُؤَلِّفُ بَينَ القَومِ بُغضي وَما لَهُم

    سِوى فَرطِ إِجماعٍ عَلَيَّ جَميعُ

    Hatred of me unites the people; they have

    no common bond save utter agreement against me:

  76. عَدُوٌّ عَدُوُّ الأَصلِ وَالأَصلُ بَعضُهُم

    عَلَيَّ لِبَعضٍ في الأُمورِ ضُلوعُ

    inveterate enemies, and kinsmen, some of whom

    support the others against me in their dealings.

  77. وَما بي مِن شَكوىً لِنَفسي مِنهُمُ

    وَلا جَزَعٍ إِنّي إِذاً لَجَزوعُ

    I have no complaint against them on my own behalf,

    nor panic—then I would indeed be faint-hearted.

  78. وَلَكِن أَرى مِنهُم أُموراً تُرينبُني

    بِهِم وَلَهُم مَندوحَةٌ وَدَسيعُ

    But I see among them things that make me suspicious

    of them, though they have alternatives and ample means.

  79. وَمَولىً رَمَينا نَحوَهُ وَهوَ مُدغِلٌ

    بِأَعراضِنا وَالمُندِياتُ شُروعُ

    And a deceitful kinsman, for whom we put at risk

    our honor, while blood-drawing spears stood levelled:

  80. إِذا ما رَآنا شَدَّ لِلقَومِ صَوتَهُ

    وَإِلّا فَمَدخولُ الغَناءِ قَدوعُ

    when he sees us, he raises his voice for the company;

    otherwise his aid is unreliable, and he is easily cowed.

  81. أَخَذنا لَهُ مِن أَمنَعِ الحَيِّ بَعدَنا

    ظُلامَتَهُ فَاِنساحَ وَهوَ مَنيعُ

    We secured for him, from the strongest clansmen after us,

    redress for his wrong; then he roamed free, protected.

  82. أَرى حَسَبي لا يَستَطيعُ كِفاءَهُ

    عَلى أَنّني أَهفو لَهُ وَأَريعُ

    I see he cannot match my noble standing,

    though I lean toward him and return to him.

  83. أُسايِرُهُ لا يائِسٌ مِن جَماعِهِ

    وَلا لِمَساعٍ مِن بِناهُ مُضيعُ

    I walk beside him, not despairing of reconciliation,

    nor neglecting the worthy deeds he has built.

  84. وَشَيَّبَني أَن لا أَزالَ مُناهِضاً

    بِغَيرِ ثَراً أَثرو بِهِ وَأَبوعُ

    What has turned me gray is that I never cease striving,

    without wealth by which to prosper and extend my reach;

  85. وَأَنَّ ذَوي الأَمولِ أَضحَوا وَما لُهُم

    لَهُم عِندَ أَبوابِ المُلوكِ شَفيعُ

    and that the wealthy now have what they own

    as their intercessor at kings' gates,

  86. وَيُترَكُ أَمثالي عَلى أَنَّ سَعيَنا

    سَنا الأَصلِ عِندَ المُضلِعاتِ رَفوعُ

    while men like me are left aside, though our striving

    lifts high our lineage's splendor in crushing trials.

  87. أَبٌ نابِهٌ أَو عَمُّ صِدقٍ إِذا غَدا

    دَفوعٌ لِأَبوابِ المُلوكِ قَروعُ

    A renowned father, or a true uncle, when he goes forth,

    pushes onward, knocking at the gates of kings.

  88. تَكارَهُ أَعداءُ العَشيرَةِ رُؤيَتي

    وَبِالكَفِّ عَن مَسِّ الخِشاشِ كُنوعُ

    The clan's enemies dread seeing me;

    and holding back from grasping the nose-ring is abasement.

  89. أَمُختَرِمي رَيبُ المَنونِ وَلَم أَنَل

    مِنَ المالِ ما أَعصي بِهِ وَأُطيعُ

    Will death's vicissitudes cut me off before I gain

    enough wealth with which to defy and obey?

  90. وَمَن يَفتَرِق في الأَمرِ يُغضِ عَلى قَذىً

    وَيُكفَ بِبَعضِ الضَيمِ وَهوَ قَنوعُ

    Whoever stands alone in an affair must shut his eyes to grit

    and accept some injustice, content with his lot.

  91. أَنا أَبنُ حُماةِ المَجدِ في كُلِّ مَوطِنٍ

    إِذا جَعَلَت خورُ الرِجالِ تَهيعُ

    I am a son of glory's defenders in every arena,

    when cowardly men begin to panic.

  92. بَنو الحَربِ لا يُلفى بِنَبعَةِ عودِهِم

    إِذا اِمتَرَسَت بِها الأَكُفُّ صُدوعُ

    Sons of war: their nabʿ-wood stock reveals,

    when hands grapple with it, no cracks.