ورد كَأَنَّ عَلى أَكتادِهِ حَرَجا

في قُرطُف مِن نَسيلِ النَجتِ مَخدورِ

A rose as if constrained on its branches

In a vase made of drippings from a perfumed oil press

أَو ذا شَصائِبٍ في أَحنائِهِ شَمَمٌ

رخو المَلاط غَبيطاً فَوقَ صُرصورِ

Or one with curling tendrils holding aromas in its bosom

Soft leaves carefreely above the trellis

كَأَنَّ عَينَيهِ في وَقبَينِ مِن حَجَرٍ

قيضا اِقتِياضاً بِأَطرافِ المَناقيرِ

As if its eyes were in sockets of stone

Blinking with the tips of its feathers

إِذا تَبَهنَسَ يَمشي خِلتَهُ وَعِثاً

وَعى السَواعِد مِنهُ بَعدَ تَكسيرِ

When it sways walking slowly in its path leaving behind debris

The arms have become accustomed after being broken

مُبَهنِساً حَيثُ يَمشي لَيسَ يَفزَعُهُ

مُشَمِّراً لِلدَواهي أَيَّ تَشميرِ

Swaying wherever it walks, nothing startles it

Prepared for the valleys, however precipitous

أَقبَلَ يَردي مَعاً رَدي الحِصانِ إِلى

مُستَعسِب أَرَبٍ مِنهُ بِتَمهيرِ

It came galloping together with a horse's gallop to

One quick to apprehend from it with finesse

خانَ العَذار بِما في الرَأسِ مِن طولِ

وَسَيَّرَ الجُلَّ عَنهُ أَيَّ تَسييرِ

The branches betrayed their length

And made the exposed roots walk any which way

وَفي القَوائِمِ وَالأَقرابِ باقِيَةٌ

مِنهُ هَذا لَيلُ تَبطينُ وَتَصديرِ

And in its legs and joints remains

From it this night of lining and stitching

مُقابلُ الخَطوِ في أَرساغِهِ فَدَعٌ

وَرِداً يُدَفِّقُ أَوساطَ العَياهيرِ

Facing footsteps in its trails are spills

Flowing, wetting the valleys' midst

وَصاحَ مَن صاحَ في الأَجلابِ وَاِبتَعَثَت

وَعاثَ في كُبَّةِ الوَعواع وَالعيرِ

And one shouted amidst the barren lands, arousing

Difficulty in the heap of desolation and nudity

فَكَعكَعوهُنَّ في ضيقٍ وَفي دَهش

يَنزونَ مِن بَينِ مَأَبوضٍ وَمَهجورِ

So they knelt down in distress and confusion

Descending from between obstructed and desolate places

لِلصَدرِ مِنهُ عَويلٌ فيهِ حَشرَجَةٌ

كَأَنَّما هِيَ في أَحشاءِ مَصدورِ

From it to the chest was a wail containing trepidation

As if it were in the bosom of one hapless

وَغودِرَ السَيفُ لَم يَخرُج وَخِلَّتُهُ

أهبابَ دامٍ عَلى السِربالِ مَعفورِ

And the sword rattled but did not emerge while its scabbard

Bore stains of blood on the silken robe

ثُمَّ اِستَمَرَّ إِلى تَرجِ فَأَسنَدَهُ

إِلى فَريسَينِ ذي كَفلٍ وَذي كورِ

Then it leaned on a niche and rested upon it

On two shoulders, one calloused and one delicate