هَلْ تُبْكِيَنْكَ الدِمَنُ الدُرُوسُ

كَأَنَّهُنَّ الوَرَقُ المَطْرُوسُ

Do the old abodes make you weep?

As if they are crumpled leaves,

إِذْ مَرْكَبِي وَنَاقَتِي حَبِيسُ

أَرْكَبُ حِينَ يَحْصَدُ المَرِيسُ

While my ship and she-camel are confined,

I ride when the plowman reaps,

عَوْصَاءَ لا يَسْطِيعُهَا الضُغْبُوسُ

مِنِّي وَلَو أَسَّسَه إِبْلِيسُ

A refractory she-camel, the insolent cannot tame her,

Even if the devil himself should found her for me,

وَحاجَةً لِهَمِّهَا قَسِيسُ

كَأَنَّهَا مِنْ وَصَبٍ رسِيسُ

And a need whose care would perplex a priest,

As if it were a streaming wound,

فِي الجِسْمِ أَوْ صَهْبَاءُ خَنْدَرِيسُ

يَلْتَاحُ فِيهَا المَعِكُ البِرْعِيسُ

In the body, or a crashing headache,

In which the swollen tent-peg sticks,

إِذَا اسْتَخَفَّ الخَلِطُ اللَقُوسُ

مارَسَها مِنِّي وَلِي شَرِيسُ

When the motley drink is weakened,

She is handled by a villainous mate of mine.

نَقْفٌ لِحَيَّاتِ العِدَى حَسُوسُ

لَا سَيِّءُ الحِرْصِ ولَا يَؤُوسُ

A sniffing out for the snakes of enmity, keen of scent,

Neither evil in greed, nor despairing,

للْمُصْعَبَاتِ مِجْذَبٌ هَرُوسُ

لَمَّا رَأَتْنِي بَعْدَ مَا أَمِيسُ

Drawing to difficulties, intrepid,

When she saw me, after I had become downcast,

فِي الرَيْطِ يَكْفِي لِبْسَتِي التَحْلِيسُ

وَمَحَّ مِنْ لَوْنِ الشَبابِ الطُوسُ

In the camp, the shabby clothes were enough for me,

And the bloom of youth had been erased,

وَنَسِيَتْ غَيْسانَها العَرُوسُ

وَحَسَر الأَسْوَدُ وَالحَلِيسُ

And the bride forgot her jewelry,

The black hair and the gray turned white,

مِنْ لِمَّتِي وَالفَرَعُ المَلْمُوسُ

عَنْ هَامَةٍ كَأَنَّهَا كُرْدُوسُ

From my cares, and the hair of youth feels coarse,

Above a neck as though it were a citadel,

وَقَدْ تَرانِي البَقَرُ الكُنُوسُ

وَمَا لِغِرّاتِ المَهَا تَجْرِيسُ

Even the wild cows with slit noses recognize me,

Nor do the calling voices of the bellowing camels trouble me.

أَزْمانَ شَيْطَانُ الصِبَا نَطِيسُ

عَادَ الهَوَى فِي طَوْقِهِ تَنْجِيسُ

The Devil of Youth has become humble,

Desire has returned to its fetters,

لَا يَبْعُدَنْ عَهْدُ الصِبَا المَرْغُوسُ

لَذَّاتُهُ وَاللَعِبُ التَدْلِيسُ

May the epoch of youth not be far removed!

Its pleasures and artful tricks,

بَلْ بَلْدَةٍ تُمْسِي عَلَيْهَا العِيسُ

كَأَنَّهُنَّ الزَوْرَقُ القَمُوسُ

Rather, of a country over which evening comes,

As if they are the arched ship,

فِي الماءِ لَوْلَا العَرَقُ التَدْبِيسُ

يَجْرِي بِتَيْهَا آلُهَا المَألوسُ

In the water, were it not for the caulking,

It would ply its course with its deranged crew,

لَيْسَ عَلَى حَيْزُومِها لُبُوسُ

بِالوَصْلِ مِنْ مَوْصُولِهَا شَطُوسُ

There is no calking on its ribs,

With separation, of its caulker, exceedingly zealous,

دَوِيَّةٌ وَعَقَدٌ مَرْهُوسُ

أَوْ شَاخِصٌ مُوَشَّحٌ مَطْمُوسُ

It has a leak and a firmly-tied knot,

Or it is exposed, bearing a heavy load,

جَابَ بِرَحْلِي حَرَجٌ لَدِيسُ

مِنَ العَنَاقِ الرُبْعِ أَوْ سَدِيسُ

My saddle has chafed a painful sore,

From the soft, plaited girths, or the stuffed saddlecloth,

بِالمَنْكِبَيْنِ قَذَفَى رَعُوسُ

إِذَا انْتَهَى عَنْ قَصْدِهِ نَعُوسُ

Onto my shoulders the saddlebags were flung,

When the she-camel turned aside from her course.

وَقَدْ أَتَى بَعْدَ السُرَى التَعْرِيسُ

وَالْهَامُ وَالبُومُ لَهُ تَغْلِيسُ

And she came after the departure at eventide,

While the cares and sorrows for her are profound.

لَم أَدْرِ مَا قَال الصَدَى المَرْمُوسُ

كَأَنَّهَا ذُو وَقَفٍ مَنْخُوسُ

I do not know what the battered echo said,

As if it has a suppressed deed,

مُحْمَلِّجٌ فِي أَرْبَعٍ جَسِيسُ

بِصُلْبِ رَهْبَى وِرْدُهُ تَغْلِيسُ

Swaying heavily with four unmatched camels,

With the rigor of monks, its fruit is oppression,

يَقِيهِ حَيْثُ أُكْرِبَ الدَخِيسُ

وَأْبُ الحَوَامِي مِقْرَعٌ مَلْطِيسُ

Where the vile were brought low.

The father of calamities is a battered old man,

لَوَّحَهُنَّ العَطَشُ النَسِيسُ

عَنْ مَشْرَعٍ دَانٍ لَهُ النَامُوسُ

Whom thirst has waved toward

An extended, submissive abode,

وَحَيْثُ يُخْشَى مُنْطَوٍ جَلُوسُ

بِاللَيْلِ فِي قُتْرَتِهِ حَلُوسُ

And wherever a fearsome lair is dreaded,

By night, in its den, it is genial,

مِنَ الشَقَا محْتَرِقٌ جَسُوسُ

مُجَوَّعٌ طاوِي الحَشَا لَحُوسُ

Scorched by misery, its belly empty,

Having nothing in life but rags,

لَيْسَ لَهُ فِي الحَيِّ هَلْبَسِيسُ

قَدْ نَالَ مِنْهُ الجُوعُ وَالتَفْلِيسُ

Hunger and poverty have come upon it,

And the food which obliges, and is sweet.

وَالمَطْعَمُ المُوجِبُ وَاللَهِيسُ

ثُمَّ انْدَرَى مُكَدَّحٌ شَمُوسُ

Then he limped, toil-worn, unkempt,

Wearing a coat as if it were fur,

ذُو جُبَبٍ كَأَنَّهَا فُؤُوسُ

وَانْدَرَعَت خائِفَةٌ وَهُوسُ

And a timid, delirious female camel shied away,

So the archer missed, and the vile creature showed its heel,

فَأَخْطَأَ الرَامِي وَحَفَّ الخِيسُ

وَانْصَاعَ مِنْ وَجسٍ لَهُ تَوْجِيسُ

And it bolted from a body having for it a saddle,

With its beard hanging over the sides of its head.

حابٍ بِلحْيَيْ رَأْسِهِ رَدُوسُ

عَلَى صَلاَهَا مِعْطَفٌ عَجُوسُ

Over its baggage is a coarse cover,

I will drive it away if it is recalcitrant.

أَقْلَحُ إِنْ عَاصَيْنَهُ نَهُوسُ

بَلْ عَلِمَ العَالِمُ وَالقِسِّيسُ

But the scholar and priest both know

That a man who fought against us is possessed,

أَنَّ امْرَءًا حَارَبَنَا مَمْسُوسُ

بِئْسَ الخَلِيطُ الحَرِبُ المَدْسُوسُ

Evil is the mixture! War brings woe.

Why do people who have insight

ما بالُ أَقْوامٍ لَهُمْ حَسِيسُ

بَيَّنَ فِي رُؤُوسِهِمْ تَنْكِيسُ

Show on their heads the sign of humility?

And a thought that obsesses them is confused,

وَهاجِسٌ مِن أَمْرِهِمْ مَهْجُوسُ

يَثْوِي عَلَيْهِ يَصْطَلِي المَجُوسُ

Upon which the Magi warm themselves.

Insults and sneezes have been visited upon it.

جَرَتْ عَلَيْهِ اللُجْمُ وَالعَطُوسُ

بِنَا يُدَاوِي الفَقَمُ الشَخِيسُ

With us the contemptible charlatan is healed,

And insolence, until the unyielding becomes gentle.

وَالشَغْبُ حَتَّى يَسْمَحَ الضَرِيسُ

إِنَّا إِذَا مَا هَوَّسَ الهَوِيسُ

When caprice has aroused our desire,

Our pampered arrogance was satisfied by the bully,

أَعْطَى مُنَانَا المُتْرَفُ العِتْرِيسُ

حَتَّى يُلِينَ سَأْوَهُ التَوْكِيسُ

Until he softened his obstinate neck for tethering,

And ignited the fire of strife,

وَحَشَّ نارَ الفِتْنَةِ التَأْسِيسُ

وَقُودُهَا وَاللَهَبُ المَقْبُوسُ

Its fuel being the sealed flame,

Now is the hour when souls find peace,

هذَا أَوَانَ قَرَّتِ النُفُوسُ

أَلْقَتْ عَصَاهَا الفِتْنَةُ المَؤُوسُ

Strife has cast away its wand,

And there remain only terrible doubts,

وَبَائِقَاتٌ رَيْبُهَا رَبِيسُ

وَارفَضَّ عَنها أَمرُها المَرجوسُ

And its affair was rejected with disdain.

And others than us it has degraded,

وَغَيرُنا مِنها بِهِ تَدنيسُ

ضَلاَلَةٌ فِي الدِينِ وَتطْفِيسُ

Misguidance in religion and sacrilege,

Ours are the leaders, and ours are the heads,

مِنَّا الرَئِيسُ وَلَنَا الرُؤُوسُ

وَلَجَب الأَجْنَادِ وَالخَمِيسُ

And the armies on Thursday and Friday.

Our spears are better than any that spear,

وَقَيْسُنَا أَفْضَلُ مَنْ يَقِيسُ

مَجْداً وَفِينَا البَاذِخاتُ الشُوسُ

In glory, and among us are the towering banners,

With them we vie, and with them we spear,

بِهِمْ نُرَادِي وَبِهِمْ نَرِيسُ

فِي كُلِّ يَوْمٍ تَحْتَهُمْ فَرِيسُ

Beneath them every day is quarry,

A lancer, or a body in a pit,

مُقَصَّبٌ أَوْ جَسَدٌ مَحْدُوسُ

وَخِنْدَفٌ وَرَاءَهَا القُدْمُوسُ

And a military umbrella above it and spears,

Missing its stab, the lances swerve,

تَزِلُّ عَنْ نَطْحَتِهِ الفُطُوسُ

وَقُرْبُها وَوِرْدُهَا غَمُوسُ

And their drinking-troughs and roses are bathed in blood,

A stroke and a stab with the spear brings woe,

ضَرْبٌ وَطَعْنٌ بِالقَنَا نَحِيسُ

مُعْتَرِضٌ أَوْ مِسْعَرٌ دَعُوسُ

An opponent, or a flaring-nostrilled horse,

It sniffs in anger, enraged.

يَحْنِبُ عَنْ حنَقِها تُيُوسُ