1. I was sleepless from lightning flashing in the fever,
My heart captivated wherever my tears flow freely.

2. When I complain my companion sings softly,
As a ringdove discards a branch it clasps.

3. We are both suffering from a torment we ignite,
As if we were embers and sparks hurtling through air.

4. We pay off debts of yearning until the dusk raven
With its morning hawk pierce the black night.

5. Darkness then reveals the light as if it were
Mourning rent white doves torn from a breast.

6. It disputes dawn’s light while dawn blazes forth
As if its proof were met by fabricated words.

7. The red horizon, dawn and dusk are like
Blood, a sword and a Yemeni blade that pierces.

8. O paradise that filled my soul with burning agony
And folded my ribs in its hellish embrace!

9. Can the heart of one who loves reject it
When it dwells there, all fire and flame and light?

10. By youth’s troth no fulfilment can be hoped for
And the tales told of it are those that kindle desire.

11. A land where night’s shadows are so perfumed
The amber there is saturating to the point of excess.

12. A raincloud nourished it, its lightning like my tears,
My heart afire, fluttering like a flame.

13. Vegetation grows so close it can barely extend
As if from yearning it would cling there and twine.

14. The life in its beauty, growth and soil
Is like the fingers, script and cloak of Abu Bakr.

15. A youth in whom is the spark, lightning and vitality
So his mind, hand and speech are illuminated thereby.

16. In rain his visions, like bolts, bring mercy;
In the Indian scimitar, edge and grace.

17. From him assurance calms the land, though cares
Of state can render a ruler’s sleep disturbed.

18. He feels his protection is neglected, though he is kept safe,
As one tenderly concerned fears for loved ones.

19. A refuge, gracious, welcoming, like a laden palm,
It gives shade and fruit at all times and splits open.

20. His pen was granted wisdom as its merit
So, were he an infant, from the cradle he would speak.

21. The sword weeps from jealousy of him so its blade
Bears teardrops sparkling on its surface.

22. When the spear quivers it is not from feebleness of thrust
But from the intensity of fright makes it shake.

23. Small yet vast of reach, doubting scarcity,
The sick of spirit recover through him and are nourished.

24. When gifts flow the miser is frozen
And when lightning flashes the lightning forks and flashes.

25. You promulgated in the West every strange notion
That grieves the East, though it rises from there resplendent.

26. You travel telling tales of the full moon and crescent
Though you are safe from error and immune to loss.

27. Your smile emulates the dimples of singing girls
And your aspect is fresher than blossoms in bloom.

28. When you attend a gathering, they glance at each other
As if pages are opened or pearls split open.

29. So some there unleash extravagant praise,
While others from awe are silent, raining or still.

30. Poetry loves you more than the sun cloaked in it
With her light stripped away, brilliant and coruscating.

31. To you the blind poet sings when your light appears
And Jarir flows freely when your star rises.

32. You are the pearl who gives pearls, the bitter sea
Turbid, roiled, given sweetness by the purified dipped in it.

33. You combine generosity and poetry, so Hatim and Farazdaq
Depend on you though of independent means.

34. Averse to censure, your words make hearts joyful
Or necks that were surrounded by oppression freedom.

35. In munificence and intelligence you shine green
While your branch and roots flourish and grow.

36. In character itself, high-mindedness and noble deeds
You are nature, ethics, while people merely act refined.

37. Behold! Your season of bounty comes early
As if racing ahead of time to reach you.

38. You were visited ahead of others, alone,
Led only by piety not merely display.

39. Yet both of you are joyous and in celebration
But true delight belongs to the one of profound mind.

40. And beneath it a beautiful woman though no one did her beauty justice,
As a sinner comes with an excuse, though contrived.

41. Shall I present a star of Suhail to the morn’s sun
While springs of honor for me run dry of quicksilver?

42. The people love culture though it is neglected
So I reckon the age is blamed while still indulged.

43. Had you not been, her gladness would have no proof,
Else in claiming ill-fortune there I would have agreed.

44. The portion of sustenance is like a specter while my dreams
Are a pillow, and no specter visits one asleep!