1. ماذا تسائلُ مِن نُؤْيٍ وأوتادِ

    ومِن رسومٍ محاها الرائحُ الغادي

    What do you ask of a tent-trench and tent pegs,

    and of traces erased by the evening and morning rain?

  2. معاهدٌ درسْتها كلُّ غاديةٍ

    وكلُّ أوطفَ داني المزنِ مِرْعادِ

    Haunts effaced by every morning shower,

    and every dense, low-hanging, thunderous raincloud.

  3. خلتْ ملاعِبُها مِن كلَّ غانيةٍ

    وجدي عليها واِنْ أخفيتُه بادي

    Their pleasure grounds stand empty of every beauty;

    my yearning for her, though I hide it, is plain.

  4. قد كنتُ فيها قريرَ العينِ مبتهجاً

    بالقربِ أسحبُ فيها فضلَ أبرادي

    I once was there, contented and rejoicing

    in her nearness, trailing there the hems of my cloaks,

  5. حتى نأتْ فنأتْ تلكَ البشاشةُ عن

    تلكَ المواطنِ لمّا أقفرَ النادي

    until she went far away, and that gladness departed from

    those places, when the gathering place became deserted.

  6. أقوى مِنَ الظَبَياتِ الآنساتِ بهِ

    ترنو وتعطو بأحداقٍ وأجيادِ

    It lay empty of the gazelles at home within it,

    gazing with their eyes and reaching up with their necks,

  7. وكلَّ هيفاءَ يُبدي البدرُ طلعتَها

    وكلَّ أهيفَ مثلِ الغصنِ ميّادِ

    and every slender beauty whose face the full moon reveals,

    and every slender youth swaying like a bough.

  8. صدتْ فأمسيتُ ظمآناً إلى شَبِمٍ

    قد كانَ يشفي غليلَ الوالهِ الصادي

    She turned away, and I became thirsty for a cool draught

    that once soothed the burning thirst of the parched, distraught lover.

  9. فحبّذا زمنٌ كانتْ تزورُ بهِ

    مغناىَ مِن غيرِ تسويفٍ وميعادِ

    How lovely was the time when she would visit

    my dwelling, without delay or an appointed time.

  10. حالتْ ومَن ذا الذي تبقى مواثِقُه

    سليمةً مِن تصاريفٍ وأنكادِ

    She changed—and whose pledges ever remain

    unharmed by vicissitudes and troubles?

  11. ضنتْ بقربي وقد كانتْ تجودُ بهِ

    تَبَرُّعاً قبلَ اِقصائي واِبعادي

    She grudged me nearness, though she had once granted it

    freely, before I was cast off and banished.

  12. حتى الخيالُ وقد كانَ الجوادُ بما

    يُهديهِ مِن زَوْرِ اِسعافٍ واِسعادِ

    Even her phantom, once generous with what

    it offered in visits of solace and joy,

  13. قد ضنَّ بخلاً بما قد كانَ يمنحُني

    بهِ إلى أن غدا مِن بعضِ حُسادي

    has miserly withheld what it once favored me

    with, until it became one of my enviers.

  14. فاليومَ لم يُبقِ لي ذاكَ الزمانُ سِوى

    كلومِ قلبٍ بذكرى ذاتِ اِبلادِ

    Today that time has left me nothing but

    wounds of the heart from stupefying remembrance.

  15. أشكو الغرامَ وتَكْرارَ الملامِ فقد

    ملَّ الشكايةَ خُلْصاني وعُوّادي

    I lament my passion and repeated reproach, for

    my close friends and visitors have wearied of my complaints.

  16. يا مربعاً قبلَ أن تنأى جآذِرُه

    قد كانَ مألَفَ اِصداري واِيرادي

    O spring abode, before your antelope calves departed,

    you were the familiar haunt of my departures and returns.

  17. قد كان رادُ الضحى يُصبى كلاكَ اِذا

    رأتْه أعينُ نظّارٍ ورّوادِ

    Your herbage was once enchanting at the height of morning, whenever

    the eyes of onlookers and pasture-seekers beheld it.

  18. يُروَى الجميمُ بما تُهدي الجِمامُ فكم

    مرأىً يروقُ لرّوادٍ وورّادِ

    The fresh herbage is watered by what the pools provide—how many

    a sight delights pasture-seekers and those seeking water!

  19. فكيف صوَّحَ روضٌ كانَ ربربُه

    لم يخشَ سطوةَ ليثِ الغابةِ العادي

    How, then, has a meadow withered whose herd of antelope

    never feared the onslaught of the forest's attacking lion?

  20. تغيَّرَ الدهرُ عمّا كانَ ماطلَه

    بهِ فبدَّلَ اِصلاحاً باِفسادِ

    Time has changed from what it had long held out to it,

    and has replaced flourishing with ruin.

  21. سقاكَ مندفقُ الشؤبوبِ منبعِقٌ

    تغصُّ بالماءِ منه جَلْهةُ الوادي

    May a rain-torrent, pouring and bursting forth, water you,

    so that the valley's bank chokes with its waters.

  22. فاِنَّ دمعي الذي قد كنتَ تعهدُه

    لم يُبْقِ منه النوى فضلاً لمُزدادِ

    For of my tears, which you once knew,

    separation has left none to spare for one seeking more.

  23. في كلَّ يومٍ أرى الأضعانَ سائقةً

    والعيسَ يزجرُ في اعقابِها الحادي

    Each day I see the departing caravans pressing on,

    while the chanting driver urges the pale camels on from behind.

  24. يقطعنَ كلَّ بعيدِ الدوَّ مُنْخَرَقٍ

    على وَجاها إذا ما رجَّعَ الشادي

    They cross every distant, open expanse of desert,

    despite their sore feet, whenever the singer trills.

  25. مِيلَ الرؤوسِ إذا ما السَّهبُ مُد َّلها

    أنحتْ عليهِ بأعناقٍ وأعضادِ

    With heads inclined, when the steppe stretches before them,

    they press across it with necks and forelegs.

  26. تنحو الشسيعَ واِنْ كانتْ مهزَّلَةً

    تستنُّ ما بينَ أنقاءٍ وأعقادِ

    They make for the far distance, though emaciated,

    racing between sand dunes and clustered ridges.

  27. يا صاحبيَّ لقد طالَ الفراقُ وقد

    سئمتُ صحبةَ أقتادٍ وأكنادِ

    O my two companions, separation has grown long, and

    I am weary of the company of saddle frames and rugged hills.

  28. يأبى هوايَ وقد أوهَى قُوى جَلَدي

    ألاّ يراني اليه غيرَ منقادِ

    My passion, though it has sapped my endurance, refuses

    to see me anything but submissive to it.

  29. اِذا تعرَّضَ ذكرُ الحبَّ نازَعَني

    قلبٌ أطالَ إلى الآطلالِ تردادي

    Whenever the memory of love arises, I am pulled by

    a heart that sends me back, again and again, to the ruins.

  30. سارَ الأحبَّةُ عن أرجاءِ كاظمةٍ

    ووكَّلوني باِتهامٍ واِنجادِ

    The loved ones departed from the environs of Kazima,

    and left me to journey down to Tihama and up to Najd.

  31. ملَّ النهارُ وقد سارت حمولته

    والليل كثرة تأويبي واسآدي

    Day has wearied, its laden caravan already gone,

    and night too, of my endless travels by day and by night.