ما الشَوقُ مُقتَنِعاً مِنّي بِذا الكَمَدِ

حَتّى أَكونَ بِلا قَلبٍ وَلا كَبِدِ

My longing is not satisfied with me in this condition,

Longing is not satisfied with this anguish I sustain,

Until I am without a heart or liver,

Until I am left without a heart, without a vital vein.

وَلا الدِيارُ الَّتي كانَ الحَبيبُ بِها

تَشكو إِلَيَّ وَلا أَشكو إِلى أَحَدِ

Nor do the abodes where the beloved once was

Nor do the ruins, wherein the beloved used to dwell,

Complain to me, nor do I complain to anyone.

Complain to me, while I complain my pain to no one.

مازالَ كُلُّ هَزيمِ الوَدقِ يُنحِلُها

وَالسُقمُ يُنحِلُني حَتّى حَكَت جَسَدي

Every evening star that rises continues to unsettle it,

The pouring rain continues to wear the stones away,

And sickness unsettles me, until my body is etched.

While sickness wears me down until they mimic my decay.

وَكُلَّما فاضَ دَمعي غاضَ مُصطَبَري

كَأَنَّ ما سالَ مِن جَفنَيَّ مِن جَلَدي

And whenever my tear flows, my patience ebbs,

Whenever my tears flood forth, my patience ebbs low,

As if what flows from my eyelids is from my skin.

As if my very endurance streamed from my eyelids' flow.

فَأَينَ مِن زَفَراتي مَن كَلِفتُ بِهِ

وَأَينَ مِنكَ اِبنَ يَحيى صَولَةُ الأَسَدِ

So where are my sighs for the one I was burdened with,

So where, amidst my burning sighs, is the one I adore?

And where are you, O Ibn Yahya, boldness of the lion?

And where, O Ibn Yahya, is the lion's assault compared to yours?

لَمّا وَزَنتُ بِكَ الدُنيا فَمِلتَ بِها

وَبِالوَرى قَلَّ عِندي كَثرَةُ العَدَدِ

When I weighed you against the world, I was fed up with it,

When I weighed the world against you, you tipped the scale,

And in my view, a multitude of people meant little.

And beside you, the multitudes of mankind seemed to fail.

ما دارَ في خَلَدِ الأَيّامِ لي فَرَحٌ

أَبا عُبادَةَ حَتّى دُرتَ في خَلَدي

No joy has lasted in the eternity of days for me,

It never crossed the mind of Time to grant me delight,

Abu Ubadah, until you remained in my eternity.

O Abu Ubadah, until you crossed into my sight.

مَلكٌ إِذا اِمتَلَأَت مالاً خَزائِنُهُ

أَذاقَها طَعمَ ثُكلِ الأُمِّ لِلوَلَدِ

A king, when his treasuries are filled with wealth,

A king who, when his treasuries are filled with store,

Makes them taste the flavor of a mother's compassion for her son.

Makes them taste the grief of a mother whose child is no more.

ماضي الجَنانِ يُريهِ الحَزمُ قَبلَ غَدٍ

بِقَلبِهِ ما تَرى عَيناهُ بَعدَ غَدِ

The wise man sees the past of his soul before tomorrow

Resolute of heart, his prudence reveals before the dawn,

With his heart - not with what his eyes see after tomorrow.

Within his soul, what his eyes will see when the veil is drawn.

ماذا البَهاءُ وَلا ذا النورُ مِن بَشَرٍ

وَلا السَماحُ الَّذي فيهِ سَماحُ يَدِ

What is this brilliance, and what is this light from a human,

This splendor and this light are not of human clay,

And what is this generosity in which is the generosity of hand?

Nor is this generosity mere giving in the common way.

أَيُّ الأَكُفِّ تُباري الغَيثَ ما اِتَّفَقا

حَتّى إِذا اِفتَرَقا عادَت وَلَم يَعُدِ

Which palms can compete with the rain as they happened to meet,

What palm can rival the raincloud while they flow as one?

Until when they parted, it did not return?

Yet when they part, the hand returns; the rain is done.

قَد كُنتُ أَحسَبُ أَنَّ المَجدَ مِن مُضَرٍ

حَتّى تَبَحتَرَ فَهوَ اليَومَ مِن أَدَدِ

I used to think glory was from Mudar

I used to deem that Glory belonged to Mudar's line,

Until it shone, and today it is from Aded.

Until it joined the Buhtur clan, and now springs from Adad's vine.

قَومٌ إِذا أَمطَرَت مَوتاً سُيوفُهُمُ

حَسِبتَها سُحُباً جادَت عَلى بَلَدِ

A people whose swords rain death when they unsheathe them -

A people whose swords, when raining death upon the field,

You would think they are clouds pouring down on a land.

You would mistake for clouds that bountiful harvest yield.

لَم أُجرِ غايَةَ فِكري مِنكَ في صِفَةٍ

إِلّا وَجَدتُ مَداها غايَةَ الأَبَدِ

I have not set the extent of my thought about you in any description

I never raced the limits of my thought to describe your state,

Except I found its range the extent of eternity.

But found its finish line to be Eternity's own gate.