1. She unveiled herself while night was dark, and it grew bright,

    and turned the blackness of nightfall into day.

  2. The gathering's bān-tree, slender of figure,

    the valley's gazelle in her glances and her shying away.

  3. Is that a gazelle's eyelid, or a sheath for sword-blades?

    Or is it an eyelid's edge—or has it become blades?

  4. She dwelt beside my heart and took on haughtiness.

    O, may God keep her! She honors no neighborly bond.

  5. And it would be a small thing to one like me, were

    the full moon's halo to become that sun's home.

  6. Friend, is that the star, distant and radiant,

    or do you think she has kindled a fire in the camp?

  7. Indeed, my patience has strayed among the wild lote trees of the preserve,

    and my slumber has lost its way in the dark, O Harith.

  8. On the day at Mina, my hopes of her eluded me,

    and she cast embers into my heart, not pebbles.

  9. And she came to me, the Pleiades a wrist

    wearing the horizon's crescent as a bracelet.

  10. What a visitor passed by, whom separation brought near—

    he took the night for a wrap when he came!

  11. How far is Sham from the Hijaz, late at night!

    Indeed, thought's pale camels bring the place of visitation near.

  12. If we had the power, when slumber reveals him,

    we would scatter the stars of night in welcome.

  13. How lovely the dwelling whose shade we wore,

    and at whose sides we cast off the bridle!

  14. And the tender maiden among the graceful women bleeds with bashfulness,

    and the hills dazzle with firesticks and yellow blossoms.

  15. And love asks—about their flanks

    and their swaying—the jealous boughs of the bān.

  16. How often the flood of my tears bestowed on her a herd,

    which shook hands there with a caravan of rain.

  17. So ask the rain, as it pours, about my tears,

    and ask the lightning, as it flashes forth, about my sigh.

  18. If we slaughtered the sacrificial camels in her courtyards,

    it would be modest—or were we to water her with wine.

  19. And indeed you have kindled a fire within my breast,

    O swift steeds of tears—may you be spared stumbling!

  20. And hearing reproach about them is baseness;

    I do not love the vow I bestow upon Nizar.

  21. No, nor do I ask for anything but a steady rain,

    like al-Fadil's hand, pouring and streaming.

Sol 6.1