1. ألَمَّتْ ودوني رامَةٌ فكَثيبُها

    ينُمُّ على مَسْرى البَخيلَةِ طِيبُها

    She visited me, though Rāmah and its dune lay between us;

    her perfume betrays the grudging woman's night journey.

  2. وفَوقَ الغُرَيْرِيّاتِ أعْناقُ فِتْيَةٍ

    يَشُدُّ طُلاها بالرِّحالِ دُؤوبُها

    Above the Ghurayrī she-camels are young men's necks;

    their ceaseless travel binds their throats to the saddles.

  3. وأنّى اهْتَدَتْ والليلُ داجٍ ودونَها

    حُزونُ البِطاحِ منْ مِنىً وسُهوبُها

    How did she find her way, with night pitch-dark and before her

    Minā's rugged valley floors and its open plains?

  4. وزارَتْ فَتىً نِضْوَ السِّفارِ تَطاوَحَتْ

    بهِ نُوَبٌ تَطْغى عليهِ خُطوبُها

    She visited a youth worn thin by travel, tossed about

    by turns of fate whose calamities overwhelm him.

  5. وما راقَبَتْها عُصبَةٌ عامِريّةٌ

    تُزَرُّ على أُسْدِ العَرينِ جُيوبُها

    No band of ʿĀmir kept watch over her,

    their shirtfronts buttoned over lions of the lair.

  6. فإنّ نَسيمَ العَنْبَرِ الوَرْدِ إنْ سَرَتْ

    إلينا ووَسْواسُ الحُليِّ رَقيبُها

    For the waft of rose-hued ambergris, if she comes by night

    to us, and her jewelry's tinkling are her watchers.

  7. وللهِ عَيْنٌ تَمْتَري دَمْعَها النّوى

    ونَفْسٌ يُعَنّيها الهَوى ويُذيبُها

    And what an eye, by God, whose tears separation milks,

    and a soul that love torments and melts away!

  8. وكُنتُ إذا الأيْكِيّةُ الوُرْقُ غرّدَتْ

    أخَذْتُ بأحْناءِ الضّلوعِ أُجيبُها

    And whenever the gray doves of the thicket sang,

    I clutched my curving ribs and answered them.

  9. وإنْ خَطَرَتْ وَهْناً صَباً مَشرِقيّةٌ

    على كَبِدِي هاجَ الغَرامَ هُبوبُها

    And if, late at night, an easterly breeze passed

    over my liver, its blowing stirred passion.

  10. وإني لأسْتَنْشي الرّياحَ فربّما

    تَجيءُ برَيّا أمِّ عَمْروٍ جَنوبُها

    Indeed, I sniff the winds, for sometimes

    their south wind brings Umm ʿAmr's fragrance.

  11. وأنْشَقُ منها نَفْحَةً غَضَويّةً

    ولي عَبراتٌ ما تَجفُّ غُروبُها

    I inhale from them a waft of ghaḍā trees,

    while my tears flow in streams that never run dry.

  12. أُعَلِّلُ نَفْساً بالعِراقِ مريضةً

    ولكنْ بأكْنافِ الحِجازِ طَبيبُها

    I soothe a soul lying sick in Iraq,

    yet its physician is in the reaches of the Ḥijāz.

  13. فهل علِمَتْ بنتُ الحُوَيْرِثِ أنّني

    مُقيمٌ على العَهْدِ الذي لا يَريبُها

    Does al-Ḥuwayrith's daughter know that I

    remain true to the pledge that gives her no cause for doubt?

  14. ومُخْلِسةٌ منْ رَوْعَةِ البَيْنِ لِمّتي

    أقَبْلَ الثّلاثينَ اسْتَنارَ مَشيبُها

    My locks are streaked with gray from the terror of parting—

    has their whiteness shone forth before thirty?

  15. وما نَهْنَهَتْني دونَها خَشيَةُ الرّدى

    وهَلْ هيَ إلا مُهْجَةٌ وشَعوبُها

    No fear of death held me back from her;

    what is it but life's blood and the death that claims it?

  16. ولا خِفْتُ أن يَستَغويَ البيدُ ناظِري

    فإني إذا ما اغْبَرّتِ الأرضُ ذِيبُها

    Nor did I fear the deserts would lead my gaze astray,

    for when the earth turns dust-gray, I am its wolf.

  17. وبيضٍ أُرَويّها دَماً عِندَ مأزِقٍ

    بهِ تَشهَدُ الهَيجاءُ أني شَبيبُها

    And many a white blade I slake with blood in battle's press,

    where battle bears witness that I am its Shabīb.

  18. وشِعْرٍ كنَوّارِ الرِّياضِ أقولُهُ

    إذا الكَلِماتُ العُورُ قامَ خَطيبُها

    And many a poem like the gardens' blossoms I compose,

    when the spokesman for one-eyed words rises.

  19. أُنيرُ وأُسْدي مَجْدَ أرْوَعَ باسِمٍ

    على حِينِ يَلوي بالوجُوهِ قُطوبُها

    I weave, in warp and weft, the glory of a splendid, smiling man,

    when scowls contort men's faces.

  20. تَصوبُ بكفّيْهِ شَآبيبُ نائِلٍ

    إذا السّنواتُ الشُّهْبُ مارَ ضَريبُها

    Showers of bounty pour from his two palms,

    when the frost of gray, barren years swirls.

  21. ويَخْلُفُ أنواءَ الرّبيعِ إذا كسا

    سَنامَ الحمى بُرْدَيْ عَديمٍ نُضوبُها

    He stands in for spring's rains when their drying up clothes

    the pasture's crest in a pauper's two cloaks.

  22. أخو هِمَمٍ مَشْغوفَةٍ بمَكارِمٍ

    يَروحُ إِلى غاياتِهنَّ عَزيبُها

    A man of aspirations enamored of noble deeds,

    whose farthest-ranging ambitions reach those deeds' utmost bounds.

  23. ويَقْصُرُ عنها المَدْحُ حتى كأنّنا

    إذا نَحنُ أثْنَيْنا عليها نَعيبُها

    Praise falls short of them, until it seems that,

    when we extol them, we are finding fault with them.

  24. أطَلَّ على الأكْفاءِ تَغْلي صُدورُهُمْ

    على حَسَدٍ تَفترُّ عنهُ نُدوبُها

    He towers over his peers, whose breasts boil

    with envy, which their scars gape open to reveal.

  25. وصاغَتْ لهُ في كلِّ قَلبٍ مَحبّةً

    يَدٌ بالأيادي ثَرّةٌ تَسْتَثيبُها

    And love for him in every heart was forged

    by a hand lavish with favors, seeking that love as its reward.

  26. ولوْ أضْمَرَتْ فيهِ العَداوَةَ أنْفُسٌ

    لحدّثَ عن أسرارِهِنَّ قُلوبُها

    Even if souls concealed hostility toward him,

    their hearts would surely disclose their secrets.

  27. إليكَ أبا حَسّانَ أُزْجي رَكائِباً

    لَها مِنْ رِحابِ الأكْرَمينَ خَصيبُها

    Toward you, Abū Ḥassān, I urge riding camels,

    whose fertile pasture lies in the spacious courts of the noblest.

  28. ويُطْرِبُها الحادي بمَدْحِكَ مَوْهِناً

    فتَخْدي وقد مَسَّ المَراخِي لُغوبُها

    The camel-driver thrills them with your praise late at night,

    so they stride swiftly, though their weariness has touched the easy-gaited mounts.

  29. ولولاكَ لم أطْرُقْ أحاوِصَ عامِرٍ

    ولا نَبَحَتْني في كُلَيْبٍ كَليبُها

    But for you, I would not have visited the Aḥāwiṣ of ʿĀmir by night,

    nor would its dogs have barked at me in Kulayb.

  30. فيمَّمْتُ أخْوالي هِلالَ بنَ عامِرٍ

    واغِرْبَةُ الحَيَّيْنِ شاجٍ نعيبُها

    So I turned toward my maternal uncles, Hilāl ibn ʿĀmir,

    while mournful was the cawing of the two camps' crows.

  31. أؤَمِّلُ أن ألقى الخُطوبَ فتَنْثَني

    نَوابيَ عن شِلْوي لَدَيْهِمْ نُيوبُها

    I hope to meet calamities, and have their fangs

    recoil from my body, glancing off in my kinsmen's presence.

  32. فمَعْذِرَةُ الأيامِ مَقْبولَةٌ بِهِمْ

    ومَغْفورَةٌ للنّائِباتِ ذُنوبُها

    So, for their sake, the days' apology is accepted,

    and calamities are forgiven their sins.