يعنفني أن أطلت النحيبا — Al Sari Al Raffa

He rebukes me for prolonging my wailing,

as I pour out freely flowing tears for separation.

And the lover nearest to his death

is one who wept for a beloved on the day of parting.

He summoned his tears, and she summoned hers,

and they soaked the bosoms of her robe and his.

A maiden shot him with the arrow of her eyelids,

and stretched toward him dye-stained fingertips.

Then he beheld among them a tame gazelle,

a radiant full moon, and a supple branch.

I remember her never prolonging her aloofness,

nor falsely accusing me of faults,

on nights when our union was no stolen tryst

requiring us to watch the watcher in fear;

nor was the lightning of our pleasures a rainless flash

when we summoned hearts to union.

And how many a scene I have shared with parting,

slaying hearts with the glances of eyes!

When the gaze unsheathed its swords,

I armored myself in a fresh mantle of patience,

as though, amid its two dust clouds, I were Ibn Fahd,

when the day dawns as a grievous day.

A young man who deems lavish reward slight,

out of generosity to whoever comes to him seeking reward;

and surpasses the customary paths of noble deeds,

thus displaying in them a rare glory.

And you find him smiling and radiant when

calamities display a scowl.

A generous man: when a seeker of bounty is disappointed,

his noble deeds have shielded us from disappointment.

His gaze saw what breasts conceal,

so we thought he knew their unseen secrets.

He is far beyond reach when you seek to attain him,

though in generosity he is approachable and near.

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The proud kings of al-Azd begot him,

and noble stock has always begotten noble stock.

May you be safe, Salama, for noble deeds,

and you have always stretched your arms wide.

The merchants of praise lead to you as brides

maidens who delight you with beauty and fragrance.

How much eminence is yours, like perfume,

that has caught a south wind of praise!

And many a judgment that dispels calamities' night

with radiance when calamity baffles the wise.

And many a man girded with a sword's baldric,

who blunts war's edges with fearsome might,

you have filled his breast with terror,

so he bowed his head, his heart revealing its pounding.

You clothed noble deeds in the garment of youth,

though among us they had already been clothed in gray old age.

Traits you have originated in generosity,

so we see no equal of yours in them.

You rescued me from the hand of calamities,

and lodged me in a fertile abode of yours.

You were made master of my praise, just as

the sons of Hashim were granted their mantle and the staff.

And I indeed draw from the sea of poetry,

while poets of praise draw from a well.

And I am not like one who takes his praise back

once he has clothed the generous reward-giver in it,

adorning another with his praise,

so one is adorned at evening and stripped by morning.