ألبرق سرى بأعلى البراق — Al Sari Al Raffa

Was it for lightning that coursed over the heights of al-Buraq

that he spent the night captive to yearning and longing?

Or for a phantom that longing sickened, until

it visited, beneath the darkness, one ill with yearning?

Enamored of nearness after distance,

and reunion after parting had loomed.

Turn aside: the dune is the dwelling of beauties;

and stop, for it is the lovers' meeting-place.

Camp ruins that still recall a pledge

from one faithful to promise and covenant.

A moon took pity on the lover, and

his two eyes shed streaming, shimmering tears.

Separation's decree wronged him, but

the dark moon's decree did not harm his radiance.

The anguish of love for him grew sweet,

so it showed us how bitter forgetting love tastes.

A lovesick one, cramped in his lodging within the breast,

and tears the eye-corners cannot contain;

and parting brought upon me a relapse of

love, after the relief of recovery.

From it I have a passion slow to move,

that does not leave, and a tear that races ahead.

How many a wilderness had its edge blunted by Mahri camels,

bearing bands that sped ahead of other bands!

And as though the dark night's gloom were cut

from the blackness of hearts and pupils.

O son of Fahd, you are the riders' sought-out haven,

and rain for delegations and visitors by night.

By my life, you have run in the racecourse of glory,

and won first place in the race.

With morning journeys in greatness and evening journeys,

and morning draughts of bounty and evening draughts;

and qualities whose valor blunted Time's sharp edge,

and gifts that guarantee sustenance.

Generosity that renewed munificence, when

new munificence was about to wear thin,

in one of spacious courtyard, whom Time fears,

who takes no shield against calamities.

And one deeply rooted in the Azd, at evening and morning

lofty in branch and pure in ancestral roots.

You stain the hand with wine, and at times

you stain the hand with blood poured out.

Trials drew upon his resolve until

they left him refined in character.

By my life, there have been brought to you as brides, in praise,

maidens that endure in honor of your greatness.

From a loyal friend who walks the paths of affection,

and finds no way to the paths of hypocrisy.

And when you put him to the test in rhyme,

he fashions ornaments finer than those in jewel-caskets.

Your greatness perfumed it, until we truly thought

it held a breath of fragrance-diffusing musk.

And I see that pearls are beautiful only

on lovely bosoms and necks.

I am not one who ignorantly raids poetry,

and goes to excess in taking and spending,

with verse feeble in structure and incoherent,

which he has not schooled as skilled masters do.

And when he grants you a bride from it,

he sells her after her wedding, with a divorce.