حَلَفتُ بِأَعلامِ المُحَصَّبِ مِن مِنىً

حَلَفتُ بِأَعلامِ المُحَصَّبِ مِن مِنىً

وَما ضَمَّ ذاكَ القاعُ وَالمَنزِلُ الرَحبُ

وَما ضَمَّ ذاكَ القاعُ وَالمَنزِلُ الرَحبُ

I swore by the hills of al-Muhassab in Mina,

I swore by the flags of Mina thronging with pilgrims,

And by what that valley floor and spacious encampment held,

And by all that valley and spacious camp contained,

وَكُلِّ بِجاوِيٍ يَجُرُّ زِمامَهُ

وَكُلِّ بِجاوِيٍ يَجُرُّ زِمامَهُ

إِذا ما تَراخَت في أَزِمَّتِها النُجبُ

إِذا ما تَراخَت في أَزِمَّتِها النُجبُ

And by every Beja camel tugging at its rein

And by every camel-leader tugging his camel's rope,

When the noble camels grow slack in their bridles,

When the litters are relieved of their noble burdens,

وَتَرجيعِ أَصواتِ الحَجيجِ وَقَد بَدا

وَتَرجيعِ أَصواتِ الحَجيجِ وَقَد بَدا

وَقورُ النَواحي تَستَبِدُّ بِهِ الحُجبُ

وَقورُ النَواحي تَستَبِدُّ بِهِ الحُجبُ

And by the pilgrims' echoing voices, as there appears

And by the pilgrims' chant as their voices rose and fell,

The one solemn on every side, over which the veils hold sway,

While the hill-tops round were wrapped in their glacial shrouds,

وَرَوعَةِ يَومِ النَحرِ وَالهَديُ حائِرٌ

وَرَوعَةِ يَومِ النَحرِ وَالهَديُ حائِرٌ

وَكُلِّ دَمٍ أَودى بِجُمَّتِهِ الرَكبُ

وَكُلِّ دَمٍ أَودى بِجُمَّتِهِ الرَكبُ

And by the awe of Sacrifice Day, while the sacrificial beasts are bewildered,

And by the awe of the Day of Sacrifice, when the victim falls,

And by every flow of blood the caravan spilled in full:

With every precious life that is ended to ransom men,

لَقَد جَلَّ مابَيني وَبَينَكَ عَن قِلىً

لَقَد جَلَّ مابَيني وَبَينَكَ عَن قِلىً

سَواءٌ تَدانى البُعدُ أَو بَعُدَ القُربُ

سَواءٌ تَدانى البُعدُ أَو بَعُدَ القُربُ

Indeed, what lies between you and me is too exalted for hatred,

Beyond all doubt it is equal, the near and the far alikely unmoved by the turns of fortune.

Whether distance draws near or nearness grows distant—it is all the same.

My tears flow down without cease from a suffering eye,

وَلي دَمعُ عَينٍ لا يُرَنِّقُ ساعَةً

وَلي دَمعُ عَينٍ لا يُرَنِّقُ ساعَةً

وَنارُ غَرامٍ بَينَ جَنبَيَّ لا تَخبو

وَنارُ غَرامٍ بَينَ جَنبَيَّ لا تَخبو

And I have tears from my eye that never pause a moment,

And a fiery passion burns in my heart that will not be quenched,

And a fire of passion between my sides that never dies,

My heart is distracted when my glance lights on the campsite -

وَقَلبٌ يَمورُ الطَرفُ إِن قَرَّ في الحَشا

وَقَلبٌ يَمورُ الطَرفُ إِن قَرَّ في الحَشا

وَطَرفٌ إِذا سَكَّنتَهُ نَفَرَ القَلبُ

وَطَرفٌ إِذا سَكَّنتَهُ نَفَرَ القَلبُ

And a heart: if it settles in my breast, my gaze grows restless,

Then my glance starts forth when the heart grows calm.

And a gaze: if you still it, my heart takes flight,

When, if you stripped my body of its shirt, the folk

وَجِسمٌ إِذا جَرَّدتَهُ مِن قَميصِهِ

وَجِسمٌ إِذا جَرَّدتَهُ مِن قَميصِهِ

عَلى الناسِ قالوا هَكَذا يَفعَلُ الحُبُّ

عَلى الناسِ قالوا هَكَذا يَفعَلُ الحُبُّ

And a body: if you strip it of its shirt

Would say, 'He bears the very mark of love.'

Before people, they say, 'This is what love does.'

Why am I blamed for the passion that lives in my heart,

فَما لي عَلى ما بي أُعَنَّفُ في الهَوى

فَما لي عَلى ما بي أُعَنَّفُ في الهَوى

وَيَرمِضُني العَذلُ المُؤَرِّقُ وَالعَتبُ

وَيَرمِضُني العَذلُ المُؤَرِّقُ وَالعَتبُ

So why, despite all I suffer, am I rebuked for love,

Consumed by yearning and reproach each hour?

And sleep-banishing censure and reproach scorch me?

While I give you pure friendship, sincere and undefiled,

عَلى حينَ أُعطيكَ الوَفاءَ مُصَرَّحاً

عَلى حينَ أُعطيكَ الوَفاءَ مُصَرَّحاً

وَأُصفيكَ مَحضَ الوُدِّ ما عَظُمَ الخَطبُ

وَأُصفيكَ مَحضَ الوُدِّ ما عَظُمَ الخَطبُ

While I give you fidelity openly professed,

And show you pure affection - great is my distress!

And offer you pure affection, however grave the trouble grows.

When I absent me from your abode but an hour

وَكُنتُ إِذا فارَقتُ دارَكَ ساعَةً

وَكُنتُ إِذا فارَقتُ دارَكَ ساعَةً

صَمَتُّ فَلا جِدٌّ لَدَيَّ وَلا لِعبُ

صَمَتُّ فَلا جِدٌّ لَدَيَّ وَلا لِعبُ

And whenever I left your dwelling for a moment,

I am mute; I have neither serious thought nor sport.

I fell silent, with neither earnestness nor play left in me.

Oh would that I knew, did you pass a night in the vale

أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَبيتَنَّ لَيلَةً

أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَبيتَنَّ لَيلَةً

بِمَيثاءَ يَلطى في أَباطِحِها التُربُ

بِمَيثاءَ يَلطى في أَباطِحِها التُربُ

Ah, would that I knew: shall I ever spend a night

Where the dust settles thickly over its sandy floor,

On a soft plain, where dust clings in its gravelly hollows?

Moistened by rain-clouds, while the wind blew fresh and cool,

تَطَرَّقَها ماءُ الغَمامِ وَدَرَّجَت

تَطَرَّقَها ماءُ الغَمامِ وَدَرَّجَت

بِها الريحُ مُخضَرّاً كَما نُشِرَ العَصبُ

بِها الريحُ مُخضَرّاً كَما نُشِرَ العَصبُ

Cloud-water has coursed across it, and

Turning it green as the spring's first shoots appear?

The wind has rippled its green growth, like striped cloth unfurled.

Did the terrors of darkness affright you when the pickets

وَهَل أَذعَرَن قَلبَ الظَلامِ بِفِتيَةٍ

وَهَل أَذعَرَن قَلبَ الظَلامِ بِفِتيَةٍ

تَهاوى بِهِم قودُ السَوالِفِ أَو قُبُّ

تَهاوى بِهِم قودُ السَوالِفِ أَو قُبُّ

And shall I startle the heart of darkness with young men,

Were startled by riders who came and went in haste?

Whom long-necked camels or lean-bellied steeds bear swiftly?

Did you wish for water, and did we supply it in plenty,

وَهَل أَرِدَن ماءً وَرَدنا بِمِثلِهِ

وَهَل أَرِدَن ماءً وَرَدنا بِمِثلِهِ

جَميعاً وَفي غُصنِ الهَوى وَرَقٌ رَطبُ

جَميعاً وَفي غُصنِ الهَوى وَرَقٌ رَطبُ

And shall I ever reach water like that we once reached

Pouring it freely from our leather water-bags?

Together, while fresh leaves were on the bough of love?

Have you a house where you make your dwelling, and where

وَهَل لي بِدارٍ أَنتَ فيها إِقامَةٌ

وَهَل لي بِدارٍ أَنتَ فيها إِقامَةٌ

فَأَنشُرَ ما تَطوي الرَسائِلُ وَالكُتبُ

فَأَنشُرَ ما تَطوي الرَسائِلُ وَالكُتبُ

And shall I ever dwell in a house where you are,

I might spread the letters and books that I suffer to keep?

So I may unfold what messages and letters fold away?

I aspired to the heights, if for an hour I aspired,

سَلَوتُ المَعالي إِن سَلَوتُكَ ساعَةً

سَلَوتُ المَعالي إِن سَلَوتُكَ ساعَةً

وَما أَنا إِلّا مُغرَمٌ بِالعُلى صَبُّ

وَما أَنا إِلّا مُغرَمٌ بِالعُلى صَبُّ

I would forsake noble heights if I forgot you for a moment,

But mine was a heart that followed the highest way.

And I am but one enamored of greatness, lovesick.