رِدي يا جِيادي وَأذَني بِرَحيلِ

رِدي يا جِيادي وَأذَني بِرَحيلِ

سَتَرعَينَ أَرضَ الحَيِّ بَعدَ قَليلِ

سَتَرعَينَ أَرضَ الحَيِّ بَعدَ قَليلِ

Come to water, my steeds, and give notice of departure.

Run my horses, bid me farewell,

Soon you will graze the clan's land.

You will soon graze the land of Hayy after a little while.

أَلا إِنَّ في قَلبي إِلى المَجدِ طَربَةً

أَلا إِنَّ في قَلبي إِلى المَجدِ طَربَةً

وَعِندَ القَنا يَوماً شِفاءُ غَليلي

وَعِندَ القَنا يَوماً شِفاءُ غَليلي

Lo, in my heart is a surge of longing for glory,

Indeed my heart leaps towards glory,

And amid the spears, one day, lies the cure for my burning thirst.

And at al-Qana one day lies the cure for my anguish.

إِذا ما اِتَّخَذتُ اللَيلَ دِرعاً حَصينَةً

إِذا ما اِتَّخَذتُ اللَيلَ دِرعاً حَصينَةً

فَأَهوِن بِخَطبٍ لِلزَمانِ جَليلِ

فَأَهوِن بِخَطبٍ لِلزَمانِ جَليلِ

When I take night as impregnable armor,

If I take the night as an impregnable coat of mail,

How slight then is even time's gravest calamity!

The dire straits of time will seem trivial to me.

عَلَيَّ دِماءُ البُدنِ إِن لَم أُثِر بِها

عَلَيَّ دِماءُ البُدنِ إِن لَم أُثِر بِها

رَعيلاً يَشُقُّ الأَرضَ بَعدَ رَعيلِ

رَعيلاً يَشُقُّ الأَرضَ بَعدَ رَعيلِ

I owe the blood of sacrificial camels if I do not rouse with them

The blood of heroes is upon me, if I do not choose it

Troop after troop that cleaves the earth,

As a herd that rends the earth after a herd.

فَآخُذَ حَقّي أَو يَثورَ غُبارُها

فَآخُذَ حَقّي أَو يَثورَ غُبارُها

مِنَ القاعِ عَن أَرضٍ بِشَرِّ مَقيلِ

مِنَ القاعِ عَن أَرضٍ بِشَرِّ مَقيلِ

To seize my due—or see their dust rise

So I take my right or its dust rises

From the plain, from a land offering the worst noonday rest.

From the plain, from a land of abject misery.

وَما حاجَتي إِلّا المَعالي وَقَلَّما

وَما حاجَتي إِلّا المَعالي وَقَلَّما

يَضيعُ رَجائي وَالطِعانُ رَسولي

يَضيعُ رَجائي وَالطِعانُ رَسولي

I seek nothing but lofty honors, and seldom

I have no need but for glory, and rarely

Does my hope fail when spear-thrusting is my messenger.

Does my hope fail, and the messenger brings blame.

وَإِنّي لَتُرّاكِ البِلادِ إِذا نَبَت

وَإِنّي لَتُرّاكِ البِلادِ إِذا نَبَت

عَلَيَّ وَما ذو نَجدَةٍ بِذَليلِ

عَلَيَّ وَما ذو نَجدَةٍ بِذَليلِ

I readily abandon lands when they prove inhospitable

Yet the lands attack me when prosperity springs forth,

To me; no man of valor is abased.

Though none with might can help the weak.

وَإِنّي مُعيرٌ ساعِدي مَن أَرادَهُ

وَإِنّي مُعيرٌ ساعِدي مَن أَرادَهُ

بِأَبيضَ طاغي الشَفرَتَينِ صَقيلِ

بِأَبيضَ طاغي الشَفرَتَينِ صَقيلِ

And I lend my arm to whoever wants it,

I brandish my arm against whoever wants it

With a bright, polished sword, fierce in both its edges.

With a shining white sword of polished blades.

إِلى المَجدِ دونَ الرَبعِ رَمَّت عَزائِمي

إِلى المَجدِ دونَ الرَبعِ رَمَّت عَزائِمي

وَبِالعِزِّ دونَ الغيدِ بانَ نُحولي

وَبِالعِزِّ دونَ الغيدِ بانَ نُحولي

My resolves have aimed at glory, not the dwelling-place,

My resolves gallop to glory, not to the encampment,

And honor, not graceful women, has made my wasting plain.

And nobility, not affluence, adorns my character.

أَسومُ الهَوى نَفساً عَزوفاً عَنِ الهَوى

أَسومُ الهَوى نَفساً عَزوفاً عَنِ الهَوى

وَقَلباً لِضَيمِ الحُبِّ غَيرَ قَبولِ

وَقَلباً لِضَيمِ الحُبِّ غَيرَ قَبولِ

I offer passion a soul averse to passion,

I inure my soul to abstain from passion

And a heart that will not yield to love's oppression.

And a heart that accepts not the woes of love.

وَأَمنَعُ وُدّي الناسَ إِلّا أَقَلَّهُ

وَأَمنَعُ وُدّي الناسَ إِلّا أَقَلَّهُ

لَآمَنَ مِن طاغٍ عَلَيَّ صَؤولُ

لَآمَنَ مِن طاغٍ عَلَيَّ صَؤولُ

I withhold my affection from people, save its smallest share,

I deny most men my friendship, save for a few,

To be safe from a tyrant assailing me,

So no tyrant lording over me feels secure.

وَأَعدُوَ مِن عَقلي خَبيئاً أَصونُهُ

وَأَعدُوَ مِن عَقلي خَبيئاً أَصونُهُ

وَأَفدي كَثيري مِنهُمُ بِقَليلِ

وَأَفدي كَثيري مِنهُمُ بِقَليلِ

And set aside a hidden store of reason that I guard,

I conceal in my ribs a secret I protect,

And ransom the greater part of myself from them with a little.

Fearing the day when my worries are proclaimed.

وَأَحطِمَ سِرّي في الضُلوعِ مَخافَةً

وَأَحطِمَ سِرّي في الضُلوعِ مَخافَةً

أَلَم يَأنِ يَوماً أَن أُذيعَ دَخيلي

أَلَم يَأنِ يَوماً أَن أُذيعَ دَخيلي

And I crush my secret within my ribs in fear—

My boon companion, when he wishes, inclines his ear

Has the day not come to reveal what lies within me?

To drink in my worries, heedless of my qualms.

نَديمي عَلى شُربِ الهُمومِ مُهَنَّدٌ

نَديمي عَلى شُربِ الهُمومِ مُهَنَّدٌ

إِذا شاءَ أَصغى الهَمَّ دونَ مَقيلي

إِذا شاءَ أَصغى الهَمَّ دونَ مَقيلي

My boon companion in drinking sorrows is an Indian-forged sword;

I refuse to be humiliated while my reins are in my hand,

When it wills, it turns sorrow away from my resting place.

And my path is not yet cut off from me.

وَإِنِّيَ آبى أَن أَذُلَّ وَفي يَدي

وَإِنِّيَ آبى أَن أَذُلَّ وَفي يَدي

عِناني وَلَم يُقطَع عَلَيَّ سَبيلي

عِناني وَلَم يُقطَع عَلَيَّ سَبيلي

I refuse to be abased while I hold in my hand

Any blood on my hands, though it weigh down the people,

My reins, and my path has not been cut off.

Is not heavy to me, however heavy.

وَكُلُّ دَمٍ عِندي إِذا ما حَمَلتُهُ

وَكُلُّ دَمٍ عِندي إِذا ما حَمَلتُهُ

وَإِن أَثقَلَ الأَقوامَ غَيرُ ثَقيلِ

وَإِن أَثقَلَ الأَقوامَ غَيرُ ثَقيلِ

Every blood-debt, when I take it upon myself,

My path is evident in the watering places,

Though it burdens other men, weighs nothing on me.

Unless the youths hide it with their sleeves.

وَإِنَّ طَريقي بِالمَناسِمِ فاضِحي

وَإِنَّ طَريقي بِالمَناسِمِ فاضِحي

إِذا لَم تَسِر فيهِ الصَبا بِذُيولِ

إِذا لَم تَسِر فيهِ الصَبا بِذُيولِ

My path, marked by camel-hoofprints, betrays me

How many a beloved who gave me his goblet to drink

Unless the east wind sweeps its skirts along it.

While my heart concealed from him was not inclined!

وَكَم مِن حَبيبٍ قَد سَقاني قَراقَهُ

وَكَم مِن حَبيبٍ قَد سَقاني قَراقَهُ

وَغالَطتُ عَنهُ القَلبَ غَيرَ مَلولِ

وَغالَطتُ عَنهُ القَلبَ غَيرَ مَلولِ

How many a beloved has made me drink his parting,

The tattoo between us and him has become effaced

While I misled my heart about him, never wearied!

By the dusty strings of the rabāb.

وَقَد نَمنَمَ الوَسميُّ بَيني وَبَينَهُ

وَقَد نَمنَمَ الوَسميُّ بَيني وَبَينَهُ

وَوالى بِمُغبَرِّ الرَبابِ هَطولِ

وَوالى بِمُغبَرِّ الرَبابِ هَطولِ

Autumn rain had embroidered the space between him and me,

Restraining the soul from what it desires

And kept pouring from dust-gray clouds.

Is harder than driving away the slain.

وَإِنَّ طِرادَ النَفسِ عَمّا تَرومُهُ

وَإِنَّ طِرادَ النَفسِ عَمّا تَرومُهُ

أَشَدُّ عَناءً مِن طِرادِ قَتيلِ

أَشَدُّ عَناءً مِن طِرادِ قَتيلِ

Driving the soul away from what it seeks

My friends both hope and fear

Is harder toil than pursuing a victim.

My whims, and some dispute my paucity of reason.

يُرَجّي عُداتي كُلَّ يَومٍ وَيُتَّقى

يُرَجّي عُداتي كُلَّ يَومٍ وَيُتَّقى

شَذاتي وَبَعضي في الجِدالِ لَقيلي

شَذاتي وَبَعضي في الجِدالِ لَقيلي

My enemies nurse hopes each day, yet they dread

It pleases my eye to walk away envied,

My harm; a mere part of me can match my peer in strife.

For the envious envy none but the noble.

يَقَرُّ بِعَيني أَن أَروحَ مُحَسَّداً

يَقَرُّ بِعَيني أَن أَروحَ مُحَسَّداً

فَما حَسَدَ الحُسّادُ غَيرَ نَبيلِ

فَما حَسَدَ الحُسّادُ غَيرَ نَبيلِ

It delights my eyes to return an object of envy,

Never has my hand clasped in friendship the hand of a traitor,

For the envious envy none but the noble.

Nor has my nature been too narrow to host a guest.

وَما صافَحَت يَوماً يَدي يَدَ غادِرٍ

وَما صافَحَت يَوماً يَدي يَدَ غادِرٍ

وَلا ضاقَ خُلقي عَن مُقامِ نَزيلِ

وَلا ضاقَ خُلقي عَن مُقامِ نَزيلِ

Never has my hand clasped a traitor's hand,

The first flaw in a man are flaws in his origins,

Nor has my disposition been too narrow to house a guest.

And the first treachery of a man is the treachery of a friend.

وَأَوَّلُ لُؤمِ المَرءِ لُؤمُ أُصولِهِ

وَأَوَّلُ لُؤمِ المَرءِ لُؤمُ أُصولِهِ

وَأَوَّلُ غَدرِ المَرءِ غَدرُ خَليلِ

وَأَوَّلُ غَدرِ المَرءِ غَدرُ خَليلِ

A man's first baseness is baseness in his roots,

Wretched is he who mounted the steed of weakness,

And his first betrayal is betrayal of a friend.

But the back of resolve does not bend.

عَذولِيَ مَن أَوطا قَرا العَجزِ مَركَباً

عَذولِيَ مَن أَوطا قَرا العَجزِ مَركَباً

وَلَكِنَّ ظَهرَ العَزمِ غَيرُ ذَلولِ

وَلَكِنَّ ظَهرَ العَزمِ غَيرُ ذَلولِ

My censurer is one who makes weakness's back an easy mount,

A breeze in life is sweet to one who inhales it,

But resolve's back is no docile beast.

But what reposing thereafter, and what anguish!

نَسيمٌ مِنَ الدُنيا يَطيبُ لِناشِقٍ

نَسيمٌ مِنَ الدُنيا يَطيبُ لِناشِقٍ

وَأَيُّ أُوامٍ بَعدَهُ وَغَليلِ

وَأَيُّ أُوامٍ بَعدَهُ وَغَليلِ

A breeze from this world is sweet to one who breathes it,

Nights pass the youth like the shadow’s passing,

But what burning thirst and fever follow it!

With ease, though their gifts are not copious.

تَفيءُ اللَيالي فَيئَةَ الظِلِّ لِلفَتى

تَفيءُ اللَيالي فَيئَةَ الظِلِّ لِلفَتى

بِنُعمى وَما إِنعامُها بِجَزيلِ

بِنُعمى وَما إِنعامُها بِجَزيلِ

The nights turn toward a man as a shadow turns,

Days have slipped by me until they cast me

With blessings—yet their bounty is not abundant.

Into what I feared from meeting a miser.

تَداعَت لِيَ الأَيّامُ حَتّى رَمَينَني

تَداعَت لِيَ الأَيّامُ حَتّى رَمَينَني

بِما كُنتُ أَخشى مِن لِقاءِ بَخيلِ

بِما كُنتُ أَخشى مِن لِقاءِ بَخيلِ

The days conspired against me until they struck me

I must wash away dishonor thereafter,

With what I dreaded: an encounter with a miser.

By God, what a dishonor that lasts with no washing!

وَلا بُدَّ لي أَن أَغسِلَ العارَ بَعدَهُ

وَلا بُدَّ لي أَن أَغسِلَ العارَ بَعدَهُ

وَيا رُبَّ عارٍ دامَ غَيرَ غَسيلِ

وَيا رُبَّ عارٍ دامَ غَيرَ غَسيلِ

And afterward I must wash away the shame;

The youth thinks ascendance is lasting,

Yet, ah, how many a shame has lasted unwashed!

And every rise is followed by a fall.

يَظُنُّ الفَتى أَنَّ التَطاوُلَ دائِمٌ

يَظُنُّ الفَتى أَنَّ التَطاوُلَ دائِمٌ

وَكُلَّ صُعودٍ مُعقَبٌ بِنُزولِ

وَكُلَّ صُعودٍ مُعقَبٌ بِنُزولِ

A man supposes his ascendancy will last,

Shall I hope for the edge of a sword, then fear it,

But every ascent is followed by descent.

And consent to displease glory by the words of a weakling?

أَأَرجو ذُبابَ السَيفِ ثُمَّ أَخافُهُ

أَأَرجو ذُبابَ السَيفِ ثُمَّ أَخافُهُ

وَأَرضى بِسُخطِ المَجدِ قَولَ عَذولِ

وَأَرضى بِسُخطِ المَجدِ قَولَ عَذولِ

Should I place hope in the sword's point, then fear it,

With striking did the son of Moses gain his desire,

And, to glory's displeasure, accept a censurer's words?

And the brood of the sublime attain any goals?

وَبِالضَربِ ما نالَ اِبنُ موسى مُرادَهُ

وَبِالضَربِ ما نالَ اِبنُ موسى مُرادَهُ

وَحَلَّ ذُرى العَلياءِ أَيَّ حُلولِ

وَحَلَّ ذُرى العَلياءِ أَيَّ حُلولِ

It was through blows that Ibn Musa won his desire

A man who has set firm, unyielding opinions,

And took his place on the heights—what a place he took!

And no view but the right view, clear and direct.

فَتىً سَوَّمَ الآراءَ مُبرَمَةَ القُوى

فَتىً سَوَّمَ الآراءَ مُبرَمَةَ القُوى

وَلا رَأيَ إِلّا الرَأيُ غَيرَ سَحيلِ

وَلا رَأيَ إِلّا الرَأيُ غَيرَ سَحيلِ

A youth who sent forth counsels with firmly twisted strands:

He learned from his forefathers and their constancy

No counsel counts if its cord is loosely spun.

Upon glory, from lofty spears and onslaughts.

تَعَلَّمَ مِن آبائِهِ وَثَباتِهِم

تَعَلَّمَ مِن آبائِهِ وَثَباتِهِم

عَلى المَجدِ مِن عَليا قَناً وَنُصولِ

عَلى المَجدِ مِن عَليا قَناً وَنُصولِ

He learned from his fathers their leaps

It would not harm him if every tribe

Toward glory, from the heights of spears and blades.

On the day of battle claimed his blood.

وَما ضَرَّهُ لَو كانَ كُلُّ قَبيلَةٍ

وَما ضَرَّهُ لَو كانَ كُلُّ قَبيلَةٍ

تُطالِبُهُ يَومَ الوَغى بِدُخولِ

تُطالِبُهُ يَومَ الوَغى بِدُخولِ

It would not harm him if every tribe

The enemies know not to drive him back

Demanded his entry on the day of battle.

Except with a choking roar and howl.

وَقَد عَلِمَ الأَعداءُ أَن لا يَرُدَّهُم

وَقَد عَلِمَ الأَعداءُ أَن لا يَرُدَّهُم

بِغَيرِ زَفيرٍ خانِقٍ وَعَويلِ

بِغَيرِ زَفيرٍ خانِقٍ وَعَويلِ

The enemies know he will not send them back

When dire straits befall his household,

Except with choking groans and wailing.

And the neck of reason inclines in every direction.

إِذا طَرَقَ الخَطبُ البَهيمُ عِيالَهُ

إِذا طَرَقَ الخَطبُ البَهيمُ عِيالَهُ

وَقَد مالَ عُنقُ الرَأيِ كُلَّ مَميلِ

وَقَد مالَ عُنقُ الرَأيِ كُلَّ مَميلِ

When black calamity knocks upon his household,

The resolve of an obstinate tyrant in his view,

And the neck of judgment has bent every way,

And the mind of a man who did not seek counsel.

عَزيمَةُ لاوٍ مُستَبِدٍّ بِرَأيِهِ

عَزيمَةُ لاوٍ مُستَبِدٍّ بِرَأيِهِ

وَعَقلُ اِمرِىءٍ لَم يَستَعِن بِعُقولِ

وَعَقلُ اِمرِىءٍ لَم يَستَعِن بِعُقولِ

His is the resolve of one who twists it, sovereign in his judgment,

A deceiver dragging the train of his guiles,

And the mind of a man who seeks no other minds' aid.

And giving much without being asked.

جَرورٌ عَلى مَرِّ الخَدائِعِ ذَيلَهُ

جَرورٌ عَلى مَرِّ الخَدائِعِ ذَيلَهُ

وَأَعظَمُ ما يُعطي بِغَيرِ سُؤولِ

وَأَعظَمُ ما يُعطي بِغَيرِ سُؤولِ

He trails his hem over passing stratagems,

How many a defiant foe ambitious against him

And his greatest gifts come unasked.

Has time made vile through long nights!

وَيا رُبَّ طاغٍ مِن أَعاديهِ طامِحٍ

وَيا رُبَّ طاغٍ مِن أَعاديهِ طامِحٍ

أَذالَ اللَيالي مِنهُ أَيَّ مُذيلِ

أَذالَ اللَيالي مِنهُ أَيَّ مُذيلِ

How many a high-reaching tyrant among his foes

He gave free rein to security until it shaded him

Has he made the nights abase, as none could abase!

With the dust of a towering pillar and cavalry.

أَطالَ عِنانَ الأَمنِ حَتّى أَظَلَّهُ

أَطالَ عِنانَ الأَمنِ حَتّى أَظَلَّهُ

بِأَغبَرَ طامٍ مِن قَناً وَخُيولِ

بِأَغبَرَ طامٍ مِن قَناً وَخُيولِ

He let security's reins run long, until he overshadowed him

How many a womb has carried him while he raged,

With a dust-gray flood of spears and horses.

Then he turned back to kindness, with no delay.

وَكَم رَحِمٍ أَطَّت بِهِ وَهوَ مُغضَبٌ

وَكَم رَحِمٍ أَطَّت بِهِ وَهوَ مُغضَبٌ

فَعادَ إِلى الإِحسانِ غَيرَ مَطولِ

فَعادَ إِلى الإِحسانِ غَيرَ مَطولِ

How often kinship groaned because of him while he was angry,

When enemies are far from his tyrannies,

And he returned to kindness without delay!

They cannot feel safe from one who arrives and reaches them.

إِذا بَعُدَ الأَعداءُ عَن سَطَواتِهِ

إِذا بَعُدَ الأَعداءُ عَن سَطَواتِهِ

فَلا يَأمَنوا مِن بالِغٍ وَوَصولِ

فَلا يَأمَنوا مِن بالِغٍ وَوَصولِ

When foes are far from his fierce assaults,

It is as if I see them in the morning, woken up

Let them not feel safe from one who reaches and overtakes.

By a bay stallion, of excellent stock.

كَأَنّي بِها بَزلاءَ قَد صَبَّحَتهُمُ

كَأَنّي بِها بَزلاءَ قَد صَبَّحَتهُمُ

سَميطَ الذُنابى غَيرَ ذاتِ حُجولِ

سَميطَ الذُنابى غَيرَ ذاتِ حُجولِ

I seem to see it, a seasoned she-camel, raiding them at dawn,

A reminder that does not shock the people with a blow,

Its rear ranks divided in two, wearing no anklets,

Except that it removes blood and a slain man.

مُذَكَّرَةٍ لا تَصدِمُ القَومَ صَدمَةً

مُذَكَّرَةٍ لا تَصدِمُ القَومَ صَدمَةً

فَتُقلِعَ إِلّا عَن دَمٍ وَقَتيلِ

فَتُقلِعَ إِلّا عَن دَمٍ وَقَتيلِ

Masculine in force, never striking a people

A warning to you from his plotting, his heart indeed

And breaking off except after bloodshed and a killing.

Is resolute over secrets, not prone to blame.

نَذارِ لَكُم مِن كَيدِهِ إِنَّ قَلبَهُ

نَذارِ لَكُم مِن كَيدِهِ إِنَّ قَلبَهُ

ضَمومٌ عَلى الأَسرارِ غَيرُ مُذيلِ

ضَمومٌ عَلى الأَسرارِ غَيرُ مُذيلِ

Beware his scheming: his heart

And a commotion that twists the hands of its steeds,

Holds secrets fast and does not divulge them.

And what clamor there is of tumult and neighing!

وَرَجراجَةٍ تَلتَفُّ أَيدي جِيادِها

وَرَجراجَةٍ تَلتَفُّ أَيدي جِيادِها

وَأَيُّ ضَجاجٍ مِن وَغىً وَصَهيلِ

وَأَيُّ ضَجاجٍ مِن وَغىً وَصَهيلِ

And a surging host whose steeds' forelegs interlace—

A cavalry that floats over the hilltops as if

What a tumult of battle cries and neighing!

Their pavilions are the necks of howling wolves.

وَجُردٍ تَمَطّى في الأَعِنَّةِ شُزَّبِ

وَجُردٍ تَمَطّى في الأَعِنَّةِ شُزَّبِ

كَأَنَّ حَواميها رِقابُ وُعولِ

كَأَنَّ حَواميها رِقابُ وُعولِ

And sleek, lean steeds stretching against their reins,

Lean horses whose lengthened emaciation is as if

Their neck-bases like the necks of ibex,

Their ribs were the branches of a drooping plant.

ضَوامِرَ مِن طولِ الوَجيفِ كَأَنَّها

ضَوامِرَ مِن طولِ الوَجيفِ كَأَنَّها

ذَوائِبُ نَبتٍ طامَنَت لِذُبولِ

ذَوائِبُ نَبتٍ طامَنَت لِذُبولِ

Lean from long galloping, as though they were

They surge in vales where the hillocks are no refuge,

Plant-tops drooping as they wilt.

And neither lofty nor rocky ground can withstand them.

تَدافَعنَ في شَعواءَ لا الطَودُ عِندَها

تَدافَعنَ في شَعواءَ لا الطَودُ عِندَها

بِعالٍ وَلا جُلدُ الرُبى بِحَمولِ

بِعالٍ وَلا جُلدُ الرُبى بِحَمولِ

They pressed onward into a raging battle where no mountain

They pastured the thorns of spears as if

Was high, nor the rugged hills able to bear its weight.

Tomorrow they would pasture in a wide plain.

رَعَينَ بِها شولَ الرِماحِ كَأَنَّها

رَعَينَ بِها شولَ الرِماحِ كَأَنَّها

غَداةَ الوَغى في بارِضٍ وَجَليلِ

غَداةَ الوَغى في بارِضٍ وَجَليلِ

There they grazed on upraised spears as though,

How often they penetrated the darkness of night with youths

On battle's morning, among tender shoots and tall herbage.

Who see the defects of night like level ground!

وَكَم خاضَ تَأمورَ الظَلامِ بِفِتيَةٍ

وَكَم خاضَ تَأمورَ الظَلامِ بِفِتيَةٍ

يَرَونَ وُعورَ اللَيلِ مِثلَ سُهولِ

يَرَونَ وُعورَ اللَيلِ مِثلَ سُهولِ

How often he plunged into the heart of darkness with young men

Behind them the tubes of spears stalk

Who see night's rugged paths as level plains!

Like lions accompanied by the thickets of a forest.

تَنوشُ أَنابيبُ الرِماحِ وَراءَهُم

تَنوشُ أَنابيبُ الرِماحِ وَراءَهُم

كَأُسدٍ تُماشيها جَوانِبُ غيلِ

كَأُسدٍ تُماشيها جَوانِبُ غيلِ

The spear-shafts reach out behind them,

Swords of refusal in hands refusing humiliation,

Like lions with the sides of a thicket moving beside them.

And every tall man with a sword in the grip of one tall.

سُيوفُ إِباءٍ في أَكُفٍّ أَبيَّةٍ

سُيوفُ إِباءٍ في أَكُفٍّ أَبيَّةٍ

وَكُلُّ طَويلٍ في يَمينِ طَويلِ

وَكُلُّ طَويلٍ في يَمينِ طَويلِ

Swords of proud refusal in unyielding hands,

They overwhelm opinions before their armies,

Each long blade in a tall man's right hand.

And the white of the gazelles is an overwhelming white.

تُغامِرُ بِالآراءِ قَبلَ جُيوشِهِ

تُغامِرُ بِالآراءِ قَبلَ جُيوشِهِ

وَبيضُ الظُبى بيضٌ بِغَيرِ فُلولِ

وَبيضُ الظُبى بيضٌ بِغَيرِ فُلولِ

They plunge ahead with counsel before his armies,

If the invading army plunders behind it,

Their bright edges still bright, without a notch.

Its plunder in war is nothing but pillage.

فَإِن غَنِمَ الجَيشُ المُغيرُ وَراءَهُ

فَإِن غَنِمَ الجَيشُ المُغيرُ وَراءَهُ

فَما غُنمُهُ في الحَربِ غَيرَ غُلولِ

فَما غُنمُهُ في الحَربِ غَيرَ غُلولِ

If the raiding army gains spoils behind him,

God has granted you this feast greeting you,

Its spoils in war are nothing but pilferage.

Like the return of glory, heralding its arrival.

لَكَ اللَهُ هَذا العيدُ يَحدو طَليعَةً

لَكَ اللَهُ هَذا العيدُ يَحدو طَليعَةً

كَغائِبِ عِزٍّ مُؤذِنٍ بِقُفولِ

كَغائِبِ عِزٍّ مُؤذِنٍ بِقُفولِ

God be with you! This feast-day sings an advance guard onward,

Even if our feast had no more than that it

Like absent glory announcing its homecoming.

Points to prosperity – what a pointer!

وَلَو لَم يَكُن في عيدِنا غَيرَ أَنَّهُ

وَلَو لَم يَكُن في عيدِنا غَيرَ أَنَّهُ

دَليلٌ عَلى السَراءِ أَيُّ دَليلِ

دَليلٌ عَلى السَراءِ أَيُّ دَليلِ

Even if our feast-day held nothing but its being

It struggled against days only hoping

A sign of prosperity—what a sign!

For a day pleasing to the eye from you.

وَما زاحَمَ الأَيّامَ إِلّا تَطَلُّعاً

وَما زاحَمَ الأَيّامَ إِلّا تَطَلُّعاً

إِلَيكَ بِيَومٍ في العُيونِ جَميلِ

إِلَيكَ بِيَومٍ في العُيونِ جَميلِ

It jostled the other days only out of longing

And spread a heaven filled with your supreme deeds,

To reach you with a day lovely to behold.

A heaven of auspicious stars, not declining.

وَمَدَّ سَماءً مِن عَلائِكَ مِلؤُها

وَمَدَّ سَماءً مِن عَلائِكَ مِلؤُها

نُجومٌ مِنَ الإِقبالِ غَيرُ أُفولِ

نُجومٌ مِنَ الإِقبالِ غَيرُ أُفولِ

And stretched a sky from your loftiness, filled

So you attained what time attained of fortune and joy,

With stars of good fortune that never set.

For many eras arrived with none to host them.

فَنَل ما أَنالَ الدَهرُ سَعداً وَغِبطَةً

فَنَل ما أَنالَ الدَهرُ سَعداً وَغِبطَةً

فَرُبَّ زَمانٍ حَلَّ غَيرِ مُنيلِ

فَرُبَّ زَمانٍ حَلَّ غَيرِ مُنيلِ

Take, then, what time bestows: good fortune and delight,

You remained as nights robbed, and what man remains demanding something

For many a season has arrived bestowing nothing.

Once it passes with no guarantor?

بَقيتَ اللَيالي ما سَلَبنَ وَهَل فَتىً

بَقيتَ اللَيالي ما سَلَبنَ وَهَل فَتىً

يُطالِبُ أَمراً إِن مَضى بِكَفيلِ

يُطالِبُ أَمراً إِن مَضى بِكَفيلِ

May you endure as long as nights despoil; can any man

You remained and destroyed the enemies, for it

Demand a guarantor for something that has passed?

Is the cure of anguish hidden in the ribs.

بَقيتَ وَأَفنَيتَ الأَعادي فَإِنَّهُ

بَقيتَ وَأَفنَيتَ الأَعادي فَإِنَّهُ

شِفاءُ جَوىً بَينَ الضُلوعِ دَخيلِ

شِفاءُ جَوىً بَينَ الضُلوعِ دَخيلِ

May you live on and annihilate your enemies, for that

It lessened the offering of an enemy with a lump in the throat,

Heals a hidden burning ache between the ribs.

The plunging of calamity into my family and tribe.

وَهَوَّنَ تَقديمَ العَدوِّ بِغُصَّةٍ

وَهَوَّنَ تَقديمَ العَدوِّ بِغُصَّةٍ

وُلوجُ الرَدى في أُسرَتي وَقَبيلي

وُلوجُ الرَدى في أُسرَتي وَقَبيلي

What made it easier to send the enemy ahead with a choking pang

If death goes to my enemy, I have consolation

Was death's entry into my family and my tribe.

When fate takes away a friend.

وَلي في عَدوّي إِن مَشى المَوتُ نَحوَهُ

وَلي في عَدوّي إِن مَشى المَوتُ نَحوَهُ

عَزاءٌ إِذا أَودى الرَدى بِخَليلِ

عَزاءٌ إِذا أَودى الرَدى بِخَليلِ

In my enemy, if death walks toward him, I find

Yet no death has eluded me

Consolation when doom carries off a friend.

If it came to one I love to eradicate.

عَلى أَنَّهُ ما أَخطَأَتني مَنيَّةٌ

عَلى أَنَّهُ ما أَخطَأَتني مَنيَّةٌ

إِذا هِيَ غالَت مَن أَوَدُّ بُغولِ

إِذا هِيَ غالَت مَن أَوَدُّ بُغولِ

Yet no death has truly missed me

I intend that never shall a poem cease

When it has treacherously snatched someone I love.

To summarize, one day, my death and worries.

وَلي غَرَضٌ أَن لا تَزالَ قَصيدَةٌ

وَلي غَرَضٌ أَن لا تَزالَ قَصيدَةٌ

تُجَمجِمُ يَوماً عَن مُنايَ وَسولي

تُجَمجِمُ يَوماً عَن مُنايَ وَسولي

I have a purpose: that a poem should never cease

Speech like the arrangement of pearls, not chaotic,

To murmur, some day, of my hopes and desires.

And words like the boss of a shield, unmatched.

كَلامٌ كَنَظمِ الدُرِّ غَيرُ مُناهَبٍ

كَلامٌ كَنَظمِ الدُرِّ غَيرُ مُناهَبٍ

وَقَولٌ كَصَدرِ العَضبِ غَيرُ مَقولِ

وَقَولٌ كَصَدرِ العَضبِ غَيرُ مَقولِ

Words like strung pearls, not plundered,

I am no innovator beyond this, above it,

And speech like a keen sword's forepart, never uttered before.

Nor the like of it, in conciseness or prolixity.

وَلَستُ بِداعٍ بَعدَ هَذِهِ فَوقَها

وَلَستُ بِداعٍ بَعدَ هَذِهِ فَوقَها

وَلا مِثلَها مِن موجِزٍ وَمُطيلِ

وَلا مِثلَها مِن موجِزٍ وَمُطيلِ

After this, I shall call for none to surpass it,

Nor for its like from anyone speaking briefly or at length.