رَأَتني خَضِيبَ الرأسِ شَمَّرتُ مِئزَري
وَقَد عَهِدتني أَسوَدَ الرَأسِ مُسبِلا
When she saw me with grey hair, having tucked up my skirt,
Though she had known me with black hair hanging loosely,
صَريعَ هَوىً ما يَبرَحُ العِشقُ قائِدي
لِغَيٍّ فَلَم أَعدِل عَنِ الغَيِّ مَعدِلا
Prostrate with passion that does not cease to lead me,
To folly, so I did not swerve from folly and change course,
أَطَعتُ ذَوي الأَحلام وَالرَأي وَالنُهى
حَديثاً وَقَد كُنتُ المَلُومَ المُعَذَّلا
I obeyed those with dreams, opinions and prohibitions,
Though I was once blamed and humiliated,
حَطُوطاً إِلى اللَذاتِ جَرَرتُ مِقوَدي
كَإِجرارِكَ الحَبلَ الجَوادَ المُجَلَّلا
With the reins to pleasures I dragged along my mount,
As you would drag along the trained, bridled horse,
إِذا قادَهُ السُوّاسُ لا يَملِكُونَهُ
وَكانَ الَّذي يَألُونَ قَولاً لَهُ هَلا
When led by the groom they have no control over it
And those who would chide it are confounded into silence
مُعَنّىً بِذكرى كُلِّ خَودٍ تَخالُها
إِذا نَظَرَت حَوراءَ بِالفَرشِ مُغزِلا
With the memory of the cheek of every fair maiden I imagine
When she glances, a houri, at the bed, spinning,
أَسِيلَةِ مَجرى الدَمع مَهضُومَةِ الحَشا
إِذا ما مَشَت لَم تَمشِ إِلّا تَمَيُّلا
With copious, flowing tears, broken in gait,
Swaying, not walking straight when she steps along,
كَخُوطَةِ بانٍ بَلَّهُ صَوبُ دِيمَةٍ
إِذا حَرَّكَتهُ الرِيحُ بِالماءِ أَخضَلا
Like threads in motley cloth as the wind stirs it
In the water to and fro, greenish blue,
مُبتّلَةٍ نُفجِ الحَقيبَةِ بادِنٍ
تُمِيلُ عَلى اللِيَتينِ وَحفاً مُرَجَّلا
With bags full to bursting, pressing on her sides,
She sways upon her hips with heavily jeweled ankles
لَدى الجَمرَةِ الوُسطى فَرِيعَت وَهَلَّلَت
وَمَن رِيعَ في حَجٍ مِن الناس هَلَّلا
At the central bonfire she shrieked and ululated,
And whoever ululates in pilgrimage with people, ululates,
وَقالَت لِأُخرى عِندَها تَعرِفينَهُ
أَلَيسَ بِهِ قالَت بَلى ما تَبَدَّلا
And she said to another woman next to her, “do you recognize him?”
She said “Yes, he hasn’t changed,”
سِوى أَنَّهُ قَد حالَتِ الشَمسُ لَونَهُ
وَفارَقَ أَشياعَ الصِبا وَتَبَذَّلا
Except the sun has changed his complexion
And he has left behind the comrades of his youth and scattered them
وَلاحَ قَتِيرٌ في مَفارِقِ رَأسِهِ
إِذا غَفَلَت عَنهُ الخَواضِبُ أَنسَلا
And some grey hairs appeared where his hair parts
When the green youth slipped away like clouds that disperse
وَكانَ الشَبابَ الغَضَّ كَالغَيمِ خَيَّلَت
سَماءٌ بِهِ إِذ هَبَّت الرِيحُ فَاِنجَلى
When the wind blows, and the sky clears,
But when she wanted to discern who I was
فَلَمَّا أَرادَت أَن تَبَيَّنَ مَن أَنا
وَتَعلَمَ ما قالَت لَها وَتَأَمَّلا
And learn what she said to her and contemplated,
She uncovered her veiled, flushed face,
أَماطَت كِساءَ الخَزِّعَن حُرِّ وَجهِها
وَأَدنَت عَلى الخَدَّينِ بُرداً مُهَلهَلا
And brought her cool cheeks closer, snow-white,
And lightning flashed in her frowning dark eyes
فَلاحَ وَمِيضُ البَرقِ في مُكفَهَّرةٍ
مِنَ المُزنِ لَمّا لاحَ فيها تَهَلَّلا
When it sparked within them, glittering,
Calling not for vengeance or retribution,
مِنَ اللاءِ لَم يَحجِجنَ يَبغِينَ حِسبَةً
وَلَكِن لِيَقتُلنَ البَرئِ المُغَفَّلا
But to slay the innocent, unwary one,
And casts with her eyes at hearts, when she reveals
وَتَرمي بِعَينَيها القُلُوبَ إِذا بَدَت
لَها فِقرَةٌ لَم تُخطِ مِنهُنَّ مَقتَلا
A streak that has not aimed at them with murderous intent,
Then she said, gesturing towards me, “now I recognize him—
فَقالَت وَأَومَت نَحوَها قَد عَرَفتُهُ
ثَكَلتُ إِذَن بَيضاءَ أُمّي وَنَوفلا
May my white-faced mother be bereaved if I lie!”
