لَقَد جارى أَبو لَيلى بِقَحمٍ
وَمُنتَكِثٍ عَلى التَقريبِ واني
Abu Layla has wronged me with deceit and slander,
Lying in wait to attack and injure me.
إِذا هَبَطَ الخَبارَ كَبا لِفيهِ
وَخَرَّ عَلى الجَحافِلِ وَالجِرانِ
Whenever news arrives, he comes rushing to hear it,
Throwing himself upon the crowds and throngs of people.
يُبَصبِصُ وَالقَنا زورٌ إِلَيهِ
وَقَد أَعذَرنَ في وَضَحِ العِجانِ
He looks at me askance while the spear is aimed toward me,
Though I had excused him when dangers threatened clear.
يُخَوِّفُني أَبو لَيلى وَدوني
بَنو الغَمَراتِ وَالحَربِ العَوانِ
Abu Layla frightens me, and all around me
Are his allies, armed for war and strife.
سَتَقذِفُ وائِلٌ دوني جَميعاً
وَتَطعُنُ إِن أُشِئتَ إِلى الطِعانِ
The tribe Wa'il will hurl against me accusations,
And you can thrust with your spears if you desire.
وَما أَنا إِن أَرَدتُ هِجاءَ قَيسٍ
بِمَخزولٍ وَلا خاشي الجِنانِ
But I do not wish to satirize the clan of Qais,
With slander, nor rouse the sleeping Jinn.
أَهُمُّ بِشَتمِهِم وَيَكُفُّ حِلمي
عَوارِمَ يَعتَلِجنَ عَلى لِساني
I resist insulting them though anger fills me,
Curbing the bitter words that would attack my tongue.
خَنافِسُ أَدلَجَت لِمَبيتِ سوءٍ
وَرِثنَ فِراشَ زانِيَةٍ وَزاني
Like dung-beetles who seek only filth,
They bed on the mattress of an adulterer.
وَما أُمٌّ رَبَوتَ عَلى يَدَيها
بِطاهِرَةِ الثِيابِ وَلا حِصانِ
No mother raised them, dressing them
In robes of honor and virtue.
كَأَنَّ عِجانَها لَحيا جَزورٍ
تَحَسَّرَ عَنهُما وَضَرُ الجِرانِ
Their faces are like the bearded muzzle of a hyena
Baring its teeth with a snarl.
وَلَو أَنّي بَسَطتُ عَلَيكَ شَتمي
وَجَدِّكَ ما دَهَنتُكَ بِالدِهانِ
If I unleashed my invective against you
I would not compliment you, not in the least!
فَلا تَنزِل بِجَعدِيٍّ إِذا ما
تَرَدّى المُكرَعاتُ مِنَ الدُخانِ
So do not threaten me, descendants of the reddish camel,
When the sheep are scattered on the smoking plain.
فَإِنَّكَ غَيرُ واجِدِهِ حَشوداً
وَلا مُستَنكِراً دارَ الهَوانِ
For you will not find among them armies
To defend you or fortresses to hide within.
يَبيتُ عَلى فَراسِنَ مُعجَلاتٍ
خَبيثاتِ المَغَبَّةِ وَالعُثانِ
You pass your nights mounted on plodding she-camels,
Worthless hacks, mangy and thin.
وَشَلوٍ مُزِّقَ الأَغراسُ عَنهُ
إِذا لَم يُصلِهِ لَهَبُ الأَفاني
Withered are the date-palms around your homes
When no flames can make the fruit ripen.
وَما تَنفَكُّ حَنكَلَةٌ زَموعٌ
تُواعِدُهُ إِلى أَدنى مَكانِ
Nor will you ever be left alone by the sneering hag
Who makes her home in the nearest hovel.
أَزَبُّ الحاجِبَينِ بِعَوفِ سَوءٍ
مِنَ الحَيِّ الَّذينَ عَلى قَنانِ
Closing her eyelids with disdain are those
Of the despicable neighborhood where you dwell.
قُبَيِّلَةٌ يَرَونَ الغَدرَ مَجداً
وَلا يَدرونَ ما نَقلُ الجِفانِ
A tribe who sees treachery as glory,
Not knowing the finality the shroud will bring.
