1. تَقَطَّعَ مِن ظَلّامَةَ الوَصلُ أَجمَعُ

    أَخيراً عَلى أَن لَم يَكُن يَتَقَطَّعُ

    The bond with Ẓallāmah has been severed altogether,

    at last, though it had never broken before.

  2. وَأَصبَحتُ قَد وَدَّعتُ ظَلّامَةَ الَّتي

    تَضُرُّ وَما كانَت مَعَ الضُرِّ تَنفَعُ

    And I have now bid farewell to Ẓallāmah, who

    does harm, and with her harm brought no benefit.

  3. وَقَد شَبَّ مِن أَترابِ ظَلّامَةَ الدُمى

    غَرائِرُ اِبكارٌ لِعَينَيكَ مَقنَعُ

    Among Ẓallāmah’s peers, statue-like beauties have matured:

    innocent virgins, enough to satisfy your eyes.

  4. كَأَنَّ أُناساً لَم يَحُلّوا بِتَلعَةٍ

    فَيَمسوا وَمَغناهُم مِنَ الدارِ بَلقَعُ

    As though people had never settled in a valley,

    only to reach evening with their dwelling an empty waste.

  5. وَيَمرُر عَلَيها فَرطُ عامَينِ قَد خَلَت

    وَلِلَوَحشِ فيها مُستَرادٌ وَمَرتَعُ

    A span of two years passes over it, now deserted,

    with wild beasts finding there a roaming-ground and pasture.

  6. إِذا ما عَلَتها الشَمسُ ظَلَّ حَمامُها

    عَلى مُستَقِلّاتِ الغَضا يَتَفَجَّعُ

    When the sun rises over it, its doves keep

    lamenting upon the tall ghada trees.

  7. وَمِنها بِأَجزاعِ المَقاريبِ دِمنَةٌ

    وَبِالسَفحِ مِن فُرعانَ آلٌ مُصَرَّعُ

    Among those dwellings, at al-Maqārīb’s valley-bends, is a ruined campsite,

    and on Fur‘ān’s slope lie toppled tent-poles.

  8. مَغاني دِيارٍ لا تَزالُ كَأَنَّها

    بِأَفنِيَةِ الشُطّانِ رَيطٌ مُضَلَّعُ

    The sites of dwellings still seem

    in al-Shuṭṭān’s open grounds like striped sheets of cloth.

  9. وَفي رَسمِ دارٍ بَينَ شَوطانَ قَد خَلَت

    وَمَرَّ بِها عامانِ عَينُكَ تَدمَعُ

    At the traces of a dwelling amid Shawṭān, now deserted,

    with two years passed over it, your eye sheds tears.

  10. إِذا قيلَ مَهلاً بَعضَ وَجدِكَ لا تَشُد

    بِسِرِّكَ لا يُسمَع حَديثٌ فَيُرفَعُ

    When told, ‘Gently—less of your longing! Do not cry out

    your secret, lest a word be heard and reported,’

  11. أَتَت عَبَراتٌ مِن سَجومٍ كَأَنَّهُ

    غَمامَةُ دَجنٍ إِستَهَلَّ فَيُقلِعُ

    tears come from a streaming eye, as though it were

    a dark cloud that bursts into rain, then lets up.

  12. وأُخرى حَبَستَ الرَكبَ يَومَ سُوَيقَةٍ

    بِها واقِفاً أَن هاجَكَ المُتَرَبَّعُ

    And another: you halted the riders on the day at Suwayqah,

    standing there, because the spring encampment stirred you.

  13. لِعَينِكَ تِلكَ العيرُ حَتّى تَغَيَّبَت

    وَحَتّى أَتى مِن دونِها الخُبُّ أَجمَعُ

    That caravan remained before your eye until it vanished,

    and until all of al-Khubb lay between you and it,

  14. وَحَتّى أَجازَت بَطنَ ضاسٍ وَدونَها

    رِعانٌ فَهَضبا ذي النُجَيلِ فَيَنبُعُ

    and until it crossed the valley-bed of Ḍās, with before it

    jutting ridges, then Dhū al-Nujayl’s twin hills, then Yanbu‘.

  15. وَأَعرَضَ مِن رَضوى مِنَ اللَيلِ دونَها

    هِضابٌ تَرُدُّ العَينَ مِمَّن يُشَيِّعُ

    From Raḍwā, by night, there loomed between you and it

    hills that turn back the gaze of whoever sees it off.

  16. إِذا تَبَّعتهُم طَرفَها حالَ دونَها

    رَذاذٌ عَلى إِنسانِها يَتَرَيَّعُ

    Whenever you sent your eye’s gaze after them, its sight was blocked

    by fine spray welling up upon its pupil.

  17. فَإِن يَكُ جُثماني بِأَرضٍ سِواكُمُ

    فَإِنَّ فُؤادي عِندَكِ الدَهرَ أَجمَعُ

    If my body lies in a land away from you all,

    my heart is with you through all time.

  18. إِذا قُلتُ هَذا حينَ أَسلو ذَكَرتُها

    فَظَلَّت لَها نَفسي تَتوقُ وَتَنزَعُ

    Whenever I say, ‘This is the time to forget,’ I remember her,

    and my soul keeps longing and yearning for her.

  19. وَقَد قَرَعَ الواشونَ فيها لَكَ العَصا

    وَإِنَّ العَصا كانَت لِذي الحِلمِ تُقرَعُ

    The slanderers have struck the staff for you concerning her,

    and the staff is struck for the man of discernment.

  20. وَكُنتُ أَلومُ الجازِعينَ عَلى البُكا

    فَكَيفَ أَلومُ الجازِعينَ وَأَجزَعُ

    I used to blame the grief-stricken for weeping;

    how can I blame the grief-stricken while I am distraught?

  21. وَلي كَبِدٌ قَد بَرَّحَت بي مَريضَةٌ

    إِذا سُمتُها الهَجرانَ ظَلَّت تَصَدَّعُ

    I have a sick liver that has grievously tormented me;

    whenever I subject it to separation, it keeps splitting apart.

  22. فَأَصبَحتُ مِمّا أَحدَثَ الدَهرُ خاشِعاً

    وَكُنتُ لِرَيبِ الدَهرِ لا أَتَخَشَّعُ

    I have become humbled by what time has brought,

    though I once would not bow to time’s calamities.

  23. وَعُروَةُ لَم يَلقَ الَّذي قَد لَقيتُهُ

    بِعَفراءَ وَالنَهدِيُّ ما أَتَفَجَّعُ

    ‘Urwah did not experience what I have experienced

    through ‘Afrā’, nor al-Nahdī the anguish I feel.

  24. وَقائِلَةٍ دَع وَصلَ عَزَّةَ وَاِتَّبِع

    مَوَدَّةَ أُخرى وَاِبلُها كَيفَ تَصنَعُ

    A woman said, ‘Leave your bond with ‘Azza and seek

    another woman’s affection; test her and see how she acts.

  25. أَراكَ عَلَيها في المَوَدَّةِ زارِياً

    وَما نِلتَ مِنها طائِلاً حَيثُ تَسمَعُ

    I see you finding fault with her in love,

    yet you have gained nothing worthwhile from her, as you hear.’

  26. فَقُلتُ ذَريني بِئسَ ما قُلتِ إِنَّني

    عَلى البُخلِ مِنها لا عَلى الجودِ أَتبَعُ

    I said, ‘Leave me alone—ill have you spoken! I

    follow her despite her withholding, not for her generosity.’

  27. وَأَعجَبَني يا عَزَّ مِنكِ خَلائِقُ

    كِرامٌ إِذا عُدَّ الخَلائِقُ أَربَعُ

    I admired in you, O ‘Azz, qualities—

    four noble ones, when qualities are counted:

  28. دُنُوَّكِ حَتّى يَذكُرَ الجاهِلُ الصِبا

    وَدَفعُكِ أَسبابَ المُنى حينَ يَطمَعُ

    your drawing near until the foolish man remembers youthful love,

    and your blocking the paths to desire when he grows hopeful.

  29. فَوَاللَهِ ما يَدري كَريمٌ مَطَلتِهِ

    أَيَشتَدُّ أَن لاقاكِ أَم يَتَضَرَّعُ

    By God, a noble man whom you have kept waiting does not know

    whether, on meeting you, to be stern or to plead.

  30. وَمِنهُنَّ إِكرامُ الكَريمِ وَهَفوَةُ ال

    اليَتيمِ وَخَلّاتُ المَكارِمِ تَنفَعُ

    Among them are honoring the noble and the lapse of the

    orphan; and traits of noble conduct bring benefit.

  31. بَخَلتِ فَكانَ البُخلُ مِنكِ سَجيةً

    فَلَيتَكِ ذو لونَينِ يُعطي وَيَمنَعُ

    You withheld, and withholding became your nature;

    if only you were of two colors, giving and withholding.

  32. وَإِنَّكِ إِن واصَلتِ أَعلَمتِ بِالَّذي

    لَدَيكِ فَلَم يوجَد لَكِ الدَهرَ مَطمَعُ

    And you, if you maintain the bond, make clear what

    you have to offer, so no hope in you is ever found.

  33. فَيا قَلبُ كُن عَنها صَبوراً فَإِنَّها

    يُشَيِّعُها بِالصَبرِ قَلبٌ مُشَيَّعُ

    So, heart, be patient apart from her, for she

    is seen off with patience by a stout-hearted heart.

  34. وَإِنّي عَلى ذاكَ التَجَلُّدِ إِنَّني

    مُسِرُّ هُيامٍ يَستَبِلُّ وَيُردَعُ

    And despite that endurance, I am indeed

    one concealing love-madness, recovering and held in check.

  35. أَتى دونَ ما تَخشَونَ مِن بَثِّ سِرِّكُم

    أَخو ثِقَةٍ سَهلُ الخَلائِقِ أَروَعُ

    Between you and what you fear—the revealing of your secret—has come

    a man of trust, gentle in character, admirable:

  36. ضَنينٌ بِبَذلِ السِرِّ سَمحٌ بِغَيرِهِ

    أَخو ثِقَةٍ عَفُّ الوِصالِ سَمَيدَعُ

    sparing in revealing secrets, generous with all else,

    a man of trust, chaste in intimacy, magnanimous.

  37. أَبى أَن يُبَثَّ الدَهرَ ما عاشَ سِرَّكُم

    سَليماً وَما دامَت لَهُ الشَمسُ تَطلَعُ

    He refuses ever to let your secret be divulged while he lives,

    unharmed, and while the sun keeps rising for him.

  38. وَإِنّي لَأَستَهدي السَحائِبَ نَحوَها

    مِنَ المَنزِلِ الأَدنى فَتَسري وَتُسرِعُ

    And I beseech the clouds to make their way toward her

    from the nearer abode; they journey by night and hasten.