أَعَنِ الشَمسِ عِشاءً

كُشِفَت تِلكَ السُجوفُ

In the evening the sun revealed itself,

And that sorrow was uncovered.

أَم عَنِ البَدرِ تَسَرّى

موهِناً ذاكَ النَصيفُ

Or was it the full moon that marched,

Subduing that hot wind?

أَم عَلى ليتَي غَزالٍ

عُلِّقَت تِلكَ الشُنوفُ

Or on the two gazelles were those chokers hung?

Or do I see you now as no one has seen you standing still?

أَم أَراكَ الحَينُ ما لَم

يَرَهُ القَومُ الوُقوفُ

Verily the rule of love is not just upon people.

They brought near to me ecstasy, and ecstasy is ardent.

إِنَّ حُكمَ المُقَلِ النَج

لِ عَلى الخَلقِ يَحيفُ

So they removed patience from me,

And it was to me a sincere comrade.

هُنَّ قَرَّبنَ إِلَيَّ ال

وَجدَ وَالوَجدُ قَذيفُ

Oh, that draft of illness whose mixture is poison infused,

My soul now presented it to me openly, and it is dodging.

فَأَزَلنَ الصَبرَ عَنّي

وَهوَ لي خِدنٌ حَليفُ

Oh, daughter of the south Arabian sayings, I am destined by fate’s twists,

If it became illuminated by day, then for it there is an eclipse.

يا لَها شربَةَ سُقمٍ

شوبُها سُمٌّ مَدوفُ

Or if it blew a breeze, then for it there is a stillness.

Do not let the bright sky delude you, for my soul is stormy.

ساقَها الحَينُ لِنَفسي

جَهرَةً وَهيَ عَيوفُ

Sometimes a passionate one yields, then becomes listless again.

So beware of the turning of my soul from you, for the soul is fickle.

يا اِبنَةَ القَيلِ اليَماني

ي وَلِلدَهرِ صُروفُ

It headed for the darkness of an absent forest,

A gazelle within which are the soft murmurs.

إِن يَكُن أَضحى مُضيئاً

فَلَهُ يَوماً كُسوفُ

Sometimes an arrow misses the target, while the archer is weak.

And a plant whose harvest was reaped after past generations.

أَو يَكُن هَبَّ نَسيماً

فَلَهُ يَوماً هُيوفُ

The jinn had chosen it before, while the earth was still empty.

So it is a meaning no subtle perception can grasp.

لا يَغُرَّنكِ سَما

حي فَمُقتادي عَنيفُ

And it is in the body an expanse, and in the cup pluckings.

It is an antidote to the darkness of night, and night is gloomy.

رُبَّما اِنقادَ جَموحٌ

تارَةً ثُمَّ يَصيفُ

The onlooker turns his gaze from it, and his gaze is dripping.

We have transgressed the prohibition against it, and Allah is Merciful.

فَاِحذَري عَزفَةَ نَفسي

عَنكِ فَالنَفسُ عَزوفُ

And an abode whose pilgrimage is difficult, distressing, and frightening,

At which the lifespans cried when at it the pots boiled.

أَقصَدَت ضِرغامَ غابٍ

بَينَ خيسَيهِ غَريفُ

The high values were lowered in it, and the swords were raised.

I have worn garments while in it ruin is feeble.

ظَبيَةٌ يَكنَفُها في ال

أَلمَجِيّاتِ الرَفيفُ

When for the souls in pasture there is awe and horror.

Verily my house is in the midst of barren meadows, it is the blessed house.

رُبَّما أَردى الجَليدَ الس

سهمُ وَالرامي ضَعيفُ

And mine is the supreme bone, and the abundant honor.

And mine is the everlasting glory, old and refined.

وَعُقارٍ عَتَّقَتها

بَعدَ أَسلافٍ خُلوفُ

No glory the Yemenites have not mastered, yet it is delicate.

كانَتِ الجِنُّ اِصطَفَتها

قَبلُ وَالأَرضُ رُجوفُ

فَهيَ مَعنىً لَيسَ يَحتا

طُ بِهِ الوَهمُ اللَطيفُ

وَهيَ في الجِسمِ وساعٌ

وَهيَ في الكأسِ قُطوفُ

وَهيَ ضِدٌّ لِظَلامِ ال

ليلِ وَاللَيلُ عَكوفُ

يَصرِفُ الرامِقُ عَنها

طَرفَهُ وَهوَ نَزيفُ

قَد تَعَدَّينا إِلَيها الن

نَهيَ وَاللَهُ رُؤوفُ

وَمَقامٍ وِردُهُ مُس

توبلٌ ضَنكٌ مَخوفُ

بَكَتِ الآجالُ لَمّا

ضَحِكَت فيهِ الحُتوفُ

خُفِضَت فيهِ العَوالي

وَعَلَت فيهِ السُيوفُ

قَد تَسَربَلتُ وَعِقبا

نُ الرَدى فيهِ تَعيفُ

حينَ لِلأَنفُسِ في الرَو

عِ مِنَ الهَولِ وَجيفُ

إِنَّ بَيتي في ذُرى قَح

طانَ لَلبَيتُ المُنيفُ

وَليَ الجُمجُمَةُ العَل

ياءُ وَالعِزُّ الكَثيفُ

وَليَ التالِدُ مِلحم

دِ قَديماً وَالطَريفُ

كُلُّ مَجدٍ لَم يُسَمّن

هُ اليَمانونَ نَحيفُ