1. The time has come for tears to dry up,
And for hearts to cease blaming.

2. Our resolves are mocked by misfortunes,
And our eyelids toyed with by dreams.

3. We, children of fate, cannot avoid
The intoxication of sorrow until overwhelmed,

4. Nor can we, throughout the night,
Fail to wander lost among its stars.

5. A misstep is inevitable for the gallant man
To show him the worth of bounty.

6. Beauty abides after humiliation
And goodness after destitution.

7. Shall I seek lofty goals without effort?
And from where does one who never sleeps dream?

8. When the hearts of the ignorant are tainted with vileness,
Forgive them, for not all vileness is a vice.

9. Seeing fate buffeting the virtuous,
He loved exploitation when the chance came up.

10. The birds will bury me so I won’t be
Like their dead left out in the open.

11. He blamed some men for not praising
While silence on praise is also blameworthy.

12. Endure despair and carry the burden of adversity
For only old age weighs down the back.

13. Do not neglect determination in old age,
For it is no wonder to be troubled then.

14. In me is a coat of mail for this time
Of anger when transgressed or provoked.

15. And it’s not the white swords’ decoration
Rather the blood spilled over their tips.

16. Should I hang the leather scabbard
On an ignorant fool’s or scholar’s shoulder?

17. Let us relax the straps of our horses
For they hurt no less than we do.

18. And O fawn glimpsed by all eyes
Whose heart revived forgotten homelands.

19. He frowned until in wonderment I asked
Why his cheek didn’t catch fire.

20. If you do not find one to give you comfort
Then imagination has been generous to you.

21. The likes of you who tyrannizes the two worlds
Where beauty and perfection converge.

22. In yearning she has a goad—whenever
A teardrop flows it points the way to her abode.

23. I say to her while the goblets are passed around
And her tribe is forced to drink.

24. Without your tent we have the sigh’s whispers,
The course of tears, the moan of agony.

25. Otherwise chests will beat the goblets
And twigs snap and weapons clash.

26. And we will kiss her like starved wolves
Gnawing their famished bones.

27. Deceived by their fleeting passions
They chew bitter leaves of misery,

28. Until loose women strike them down
With wine, not along the holy route.

29. Answer, O quarter of night we asked you
For you are not accused of being far.

30. But how, when you are sick with longing,
Laid low, salvaging the sick?

31. As if no breeze has embraced you
No dewdrop leaned towards your mouth,

32. As if those winds never dispersed in you
Curls from a waving sleeve or cloudburst.

33. The clouds of life burst over you
Garlanding your neck when gathered.

34. The rain cloud’s udder poured on you
As if your meadows were pavilions of blood.

35. A plot of land eyes the rain through a slit
Where dust from ancient fires lingers.

36. And how would the bare wilderness recognize you
With tears brimming in its eyes?

37. But it sensed its grazing lands
And home from bygone days.

38. I yearn for you though my horse refuses
To press his cheek into your soil.

39. And I penetrated a place so forbidden
Distant relatives avoid it out of fear.

40. I cloaked myself in the night’s gown
And traveled on with worries as my entourage.

41. With every perilous route we took
Our journey stretched taut but never snapped.

42. We crossed the wasteland under sunlight
And at night reached its depths.

43. We prayed at the foot of the old enclosure
And returned in the embers’ darkness.

44. As if its milestones in the trip
Trifle with pebbles and slip.

45. And daylight leaned on its soft tread
Towards a gloom thick with shadows.

46. The night crammed us in its gown,
Nearly crushing its shoulders.

47. White dawns we embrace could be
Dusk’s edges—wan, gloomy.

48. Their borders shone like the gleam
Of a blade that stripped the wool from sheep.

49. The shirt of darkness was peeled off us
So its edge reached our nostrils.

50. And a day the ruins poured over
With wings like lugubrious owls.

51. When a bright look slipped into his eyes
Their lids were crumbly hillsides.

52. I suffer taunts driving away
Generosity with blood fouler than sewage.

53. And hands that stir the lances’ tips
And push back the flaring shields.

54. Hearts like lionesses in heat
But their entrails are less than mule’s.

55. When fighting they do not sip the water
Save feebly, or gulp it down unquenched.

56. When swords of battle flashed, they said,
Its twisting blades are interlocked.

57. Are these throats made for stabbing
And are these towering peaks for striking down?

58. If they stay with blood amidst the slick carnage
Then they do not stay long with their water skins.

59. They surpass what partiality hides of its generosity
Nor attend to money that leads to regret.

60. For their glory a blush runs
Almost becoming their mantle’s dust.

61. Their thrust made the brown falcons blush
Almost ashamed of its excess.

62. It’s the thrust the steed recoils from
Even if he were gently trotting would still shy.

63. Lead the horses to drink the red water
For the treachery of their cheeks is for the bounty.

64. Our women’s wailing is the antelopes’ singing
The beating of our goblets is the grinding of swords.

65. Is not our father the greatest sanctuary
A protector, and most generous uncle and support?

66. It is as if you see him as Sama Hawi
When, on an ominous day, death is coveted.

67. He leads when the helpless wander
And the beating of drums is unlike that of old.

68. The palm of his hand determines fate
Torrents of favor and nobility.

69. Either pouring from the clouds of his bounty
Onto those pleading, or with blood.

70. When he is enraged even storms take refuge
When they blow within his fervor.

71. When he sought the heights he cunningly entrapped them
While summits are but stupid.

72. He wards off all things—if only he could
Allow his enemies’ cheeks to be defiled.

73. He accepts being named Son of The Open Handed
And calls his horses the Firmly Bound.

74. A stalwart—had he lived to see his old age
The rule of darkness would not have prevailed.

75. And, though tottering walls threaten him, the fawn rains
Amidst lightning bolts on an inky night.

76. His temples turn white when fate casts him aslant,
And crimson fighting withholds old age.

77. From his mouth drips a deathly spittle
That kills without poison.

78. He has two lips—had they been
A tongue, words would not have flowed from them.

79. The alarmed sometimes thought them
The tongue of Al-Raqm son of Raqm.

80. He has canine teeth amidst blazing embers
They say he sleeps though he never slumbers.

81. You, daughter of thought, received us
With a necklace for the glorious ones’ forelock.

82. You soothe our hearing with song
As if each word were a melody.