1. Every coward in fine robes would ransom you
You snatched the roses and kept the breast all to yourself

2. When he saw the news was undeniable
He dismissed both faith and world for the past

3. Turn away from whoever turns from the truth
The people consider the moon superior

4. The sword-blades, when boldness draws them
Shine with what the eyes claim from the vigil

5. Yet people are like people until you test them
Insight has a judgment not sight

6. Like branches they resemble in their origins
But preference falls on the fruit

7. Some men turned away sullen when I excelled them
No fault of the horse when the donkey has no excuse

8. And they looked askance whenever I gained glory
Yet the spear has range beyond the needle

9. Bear it or cease your arrogant objections
Great deeds aid those who come after

10. I'm tired of Homs and it is tired of me - if it could speak
As I speak, we'd reproach each other equally

11. My soul whispered I should leave it
Though water in jugs is purer than in ponds

12. Perhaps tomorrow I will go
Like wealth spent to revive some of my life

13. How many sleepless nights has a restless man spent
Not knowing decay comes with the dawn

14. Have the days in my homeland been thirsty for me
To resent my absence after favoring my presence?

15. Have they had their fill of my dark eyes
To now disdain what was once in my verses?

16. How many nights I've bent double with a lad
Crossing perilous paths between gain and harm

17. Till the Pleiades' tail was visible to us both
Like a lance in the dawn that spears

18. A band of lads who plunder the night of purpose
Whom nothing stirs but warily and discretely

19. They do not stir the darkness when it thickens
Save with wealth lost or blood spilt heedlessly

20. Their worries - the watchmen almost recognize them
And chaos sometimes shrouds the strange event

21. Traveling, though the stars' blossoms rise through night
As if she shakes them off the boughs

22. They say "Attack!" though the earth shakes
None but the remnants of unhatched eggs and bitter colocynth

23. The instinct stirs beneath the hyena's tail, and the eggs grow hot
Nothing takes wings but is like sparks

24. Every seasoned spear in striped chalcedony
Like a torrent pouring into a river

25. The horses' forelocks disheveled, above them stout camels
Stalwart, resolute, and game for the charge

26. Their coats turned red from branding till the youths doubted them
So they were dyed by the blood of champions golden

27. Though I reckon age has misspelt it
Blinding people to the meaning as a loss

28. If the horizon knew gray hair meant decline
Its stars would not rise within it or shine

29. Man has no future after gray hair
The garden's end is to be darkened with blossoms

30. See how the swift she-camel complained of long miles
Yet did not fail or fall behind

31. She flows on though the night is a raging battle
Where doom roams wildly seeking the kill

32. She spent the night lofty though her tread was gentle
As if she walked on needles, not earth

33. When hopes of high purpose each went their way
We thought her one of the virgins

34. Fearing the bridle she bends her neck away
Like a serpent recoiling from the male

35. She runs like water, swimming feet
Like wings for the winds her ostrich wings

36. Divvided thus equally betwixt the two
Neither swimming nor flying was her fate

37. I scanned her and she traced a half-circle
Beyond stars' orbits had they tried to draw her course

38. A beast - if her nature's depths were fulfilled
She would outsrip horses despite their lightness of foot

39. Indeed Eeyad deserved every glory
But for the Prophet's place among Mudar

40. And they kindled flames though the night's stars darkened
In a resinous lumber's smoldering midst

41. He cast the tent-pegs and the smoke blew hard
Over keen minds that neither rose nor spread

42. He pitched his camp on the descent's expanse
Like a buckler lodged between bow and bowstring

43. The earth smooth - no dunes or hollows
Like a mirage spot where no feet trod

44. Your love perfected my art while still green
While teaching may benefit in old age

45. Where are Bakr's son or Mihayar in praise
I threaded for you like pearls on a string?

46. When I shoot rhymes into their copious niches
I shoot not blind but sure of the mark

47. Abu al-Alaa - it's enough that you hiss your pardon
Or if you wish, deny all in anger

48. I it was whom deprivation of manners spoiled
Eyes may be granted sight yet not see