لِمَن طَلَلٌ عاري المَحَلَّ دَفينُ

عَفا آيُهُ إِلّا خَوالِدُ جونُ

For whom is a ruined abode with no furnishings

Whose are these ruins, their grounds laid bare and buried deep?

Except traces whose marks time cannot erase?

Its signs are wiped away, save for the dark, enduring traces.

كَما اِقتَرَنَت عِندَ المَبيتِ حَمائِمٌ

غَريباتُ مُمسىً ما لَهُنَّ وُكونُ

Like doves paired there for the night,

Huddled like doves paired close when roosting time draws near,

Strangers at dusk with no place to alight.

Strangers at evenfall, for whom no nesting place remains.

دِيارُ الَّتي أَمّا جَنى رَشَفاتِها

فَيَحلو وَأَمّا مَسُّها فَيَلينُ

The abodes whose fruits you could pluck

The dwelling of her whose harvest of kisses is sweet to taste,

Would taste sweet, while to touch them stings.

Growing ever sweeter, and whose touch is soft and tender.

وَما أَنصَفَت أَمّا الشُحوبُ فَبَيِّنٌ

بِوَجهي وَأَمّا وَجهُها فَمَصونُ

Nor did sickness make plain my pallor—

She was not just; for while the pallor is plain upon my face,

My face too is still out of sight.

Her lovely face remains preserved, untouched by misery.

وَدَوِّيَّةٍ لِلريحِ بَينَ فُروجِها

فُنونُ لُغاتٍ مُشكِلٌ وَمُبينُ

A shelter for winds amid its rooms

And many a barren waste, where the wind through every crevice

Are languages obscure and lucid.

Speaks in a myriad of tongues, some cryptic, some distinct.

رَمَيتُ بِها العيدِيِّ حَتّى تَحَجَّلَت

نَواظِرُ مِنها وَانطَوَينَ بُطونُ

I pelted the frolickers till they unveiled

I cast my noble camels into its depths until their legs grew hollow,

Glances from eyes and hearts took cover.

Their eyes sunk deep, and their bellies folded in from hunger.

وَذي حِلِفٍ بِالراحِ قُلتُ لَهُ اصطَبِح

فَلَيسَ عَلى أَمثالِ تِلكَ يَمينُ

He who swore by the winds, I told him “Farewell!”—

And to one bound by solemn oath against the wine, I said, "Drink at dawn!

On the likes of those oaths one cannot rely.

For against a vintage such as this, no oath can validly stand."

شُمولاً تَخَطَّتها المَنونُ فَقَد أَتَت

سِنونٌ لَها في دَنِّها وَسِنونُ

It encompassed ruins which death had laid waste;

A chilled vintage bypassed by the hand of Fate; indeed,

It knew in its lowness both eras and days.

Long years upon long years have passed it by within its jar.

تُراثُ أُناسٍ عَن أُناسٍ تُخَرَّموا

تَوارَثَها بَعدَ البَنينِ بَنونُ

An inheritance of some people from others,

The heritage of folk passed down from those now cut away,

Inherited in turn by descendants from sons.

Inherited by sons who followed sons in long succession.

فَأَدرَكَ مِنها الغابِرونَ حُشاشَةً

لَها هَيَجانٌ مَرَّةً وَسُكونُ

Those who passed knew of it ardent zeal,

So those who remain have seized from it a lingering spark of life,

Now angry, now still, in its disposition.

Possessing a spirit that stirs to frenzy, then settles into calm.

كَأَنَّ سُطوراً فَوقَها فارِسِيَّةً

تَكادُ وَإِن طالَ الزَمانُ تَبينُ

Above it lines as though in Farsi

As if inscriptions of Persian script were traced upon its surface,

That even if time is prolonged, can be seen.

Which well-nigh become legible, though the span of time be long.

لَدى نَرجِسٍ غَضِّ القِطافِ كَأَنَّهُ

إِذا ما مَنَحناهُ العُيونَ عُيونُ

By narcissi newly plucked, their eyes seem,

Beside fresh-gathered narcissus flowers, which appear—

When we bestow on them our eyes, eyes.

When we bestow our gaze upon them—to be living eyes themselves,

مُخالِفَةٍ في شَكلِهِنَّ فَصَفرَةٌ

مَكانُ سَوادٍ وَالبَياضُ جُفونُ

In their forms a variance—yellowness

Divergent in their forms: for there is yellow in the center

In place of black, and the white, lids.

Where black should be, while white petals serve as eyelids.

فَلَمّا رَأى نَعتي ارعَوى وَاستَعادَني

فَقُلتُ خَليلٌ عَزَّ ثُمَّ يَهونُ

When he saw my attributes, he looked hard and longed for me.

And when he heard my description, he relented and sought me out,

I said, “A bosom friend is rare then common.”

And I said: "A friend who acted harsh, but now grows soft and mild."

فَصَدَّقَ ظَنّي صَدَّقَ اللَهُ ظَنُّهُ

إِذا ظَنَّ خَيراً وَالظُنونُ فُنونُ

He verified my opinion—God verify his—

He proved my conjecture true—may God prove his conjecture true,

When he assumes good while assumptions can err.

If he thinks well of us; for thoughts, indeed, are of many kinds.