قَد كانَ لي حَمدانُ ذا زَورَةٍ

يَأخُذُهُ الشَوقُ بِإِقلاقِ

Once I had a companion, Hamdan, a man of valor,

Hamdan was once a constant guest,

Seized by yearning and unease.

Seized by a longing that gave him no rest.

في القُرِّ إِن كانَ وَفي يَومِ لا

يَبرُزُ إِلّا كُلُّ مُشتاقِ

If he was near, or far away on a day when

In biting cold, or on days of heat,

None ventured out but the lovelorn,

When none but the desperate walked the street.

فَقُلتُ إِذ أَوحَشَني فَقدُهُ

وَكُنتُ ذا رَعيٍ لِميثاقي

I said, when his absence saddened me,

I spoke when his absence brought me gloom,

For I was bound by oath:

For I keep the vows of friendship in bloom.

لا بُدَّ أَن أَفحَصَ عَن شَأنِهِ

جَمَّت إِلَيَّ الغَيَّ أَشواقي

I must inquire about him, though

"I must inquire of his state and place,"

My passions pulled me into ruin.

As my longing grew to a dizzying pace.

فَقالَ ذو الخُبرِ بِهِ بَعدَما

سَكَّنتُ نَفساً ذاتِ إِشفاقِ

The well-informed man told me after

Then spoke a witness who knew his tale,

I had calmed my anxious soul:

After I soothed my soul, fearful and pale:

أَما تَراهُ وَهوَ في قُرطُقٍ

مُشَمِّراً فيهِ عَنِ الساقِ

“Can you not see him in a tattered robe

"Do you not see him in a tunic dressed,

With his sleeves rolled up above his legs?

With shins exposed and hemlines pressed?

في وَجهِهِ مِن حُمَمٍ جالِبٌ

كَأَنَّما عُلَّ بِأَلياقِ

His inflamed face attracts

Upon his face lies a smear of soot,

As if he were adorned with scarlet patches.

As if dipped in ink from head to foot.

تَرى سَواداً قَد عَلا حُمرَةً

مِثلَ تَهاويلِ الشِقِرّاقِ

You see blackness dominating redness

You see blackness rising o'er a red glow,

Like the inky scribbles of a quack.

Like the Roller bird’s motley, painted show.

إِن رابَهُ مِن أَمرِهِ رائِبٌ

فَما لَهُ مِن دونِها واقِ

If his condition troubles him, he conceals it,

If a mishap strikes in his humble trade,

Having no confidant.

He stands exposed, without shield or aid.

حَتّى رَآها سامِياً فَرعُها

مِن بَعدِ ما كانَت بِإِرماقِ

Until he saw it flourishing aloft

He watches the flames leap high in the air,

After it had withered.

After they faded to a dying glare.

أَبَعدَ سِربالِ اِمرِئٍ عالِمٍ

أَصبَحتَ في سِربالِ مُرّاقِ

“After the mantle of a learned man

After the scholar’s robe of dignified grace,

You don robes of a charlatan.

You don the rags of the rogue and the base.

بَعدَ غُدُوٍّ لِاِكتِسابِ العُلى

تَغدو عَلى رُبدٍ وَحُرّاقِ

After rising to seek distinction

Once you rose early for glory’s height,

You spend your day in rags and ashes.

Now you wake to ash and the burner’s light.

حاسِرُ كَفَّيكَ عَلى هاوُنٍ

لِدَقِّ ثومٍ أَو لِسُمّاقِ

Chafing your palms on a mortar

Baring your palms on the mortar’s stone,

To pound garlic or lye.

To pound the garlic and sumac alone.

إِذا اِنتَهى القَومُ إِلى شِبعِهِم

فَأَنتَ في حِلٍّ مِنَ الباقي

When people finish eating their fill,

When the guests have eaten and had their fill,

You glean from what is left.

You are free to take the scraps at will—

كُلُّ رَغيفٍ ناصِعٍ لَونُهُ

مِن سابِرِيِّ الخُبزِ بَرّاقِ

Every fresh-hued loaf of bread

Every loaf of a brilliant white hue,

From the hands of bakers, you covet.”

Of fine, glistening bread, left over for you."