أَثوى وَقَصَّرَ لَيلَةً لِيُزَوَّدا
وَمضى وَأَخلَفَ مِن قُتَيلَةَ مَوعِدا
He stayed and cut short a night, to take on provisions.
Then went on, having broken a promise to Qutayla.
وَمَضى لِحاجَتِهِ وَأَصبَحَ حَبلُها
خَلَقاً وَكانَ يَظُنُّ أَن لَن يُنكَدا
He went on to his errand, and by morning her cord was
frayed—though he had thought it would never be severed.
وَأَرى الغَوانِيَ حينَ شِبتُ هَجَرنَني
أَن لا أَكونَ لَهُنَّ مِثلِيَ أَمرَدا
I see that the fair women, once I had gone gray, deserted me,
because I could no longer be for them as once I was: a beardless youth.
إِنَّ الغَوانِيَ لا يُواصِلنَ اِمرَأً
فَقَدَ الشَبابَ وَقَد يَصِلنَ الأَمرَدا
Fair women do not keep company with a man
who has lost his youth, though they may favor a beardless boy.
بَل لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَعودَنَّ ناشِئاً
مِثلي زُمَينَ أَحُلُّ بُرقَةَ أَنقَدا
If only I knew: shall I ever return a youth,
as in the old days when I camped at Burqat Anqad,
إِذ لِمَّتي سَوداءُ أَتبَعُ ظِلَّها
دَدَناً قُعودَ غَوايَةٍ أَجري دَدا
when my locks were black and I followed their shade,
at play—sitting among carefree girls, pursuing play?
يَلوينَني دَيني النَهارَ وَأَجتَزي
دَيني إِذا وَقَذَ النُعاسُ الرُقَّدا
By day they put me off from what they owed, and I collected
my due when drowsiness had felled the sleepers.
هَل تَذكُرينَ العَهدَ يا اِبنَةَ مالِكٍ
أَيّامَ نَرتَبِعُ السِتارَ فَثَهمَدا
Do you remember the old covenant, daughter of Malik,
the days we took spring pasture at al-Sitar, then Thahmad;
أَيّامَ أَمنَحُكِ المَوَدَّةَ كُلَّها
مِنّي وَأَرعى بِالمَغيبِ المَأحَدا
the days I gave you all my love
and watched your garments at night as they lay still?
قالَت قُتَيلَةُ ما لِجِسمِكَ سايِئاً
وَأَرى ثِيابَكَ بالِياتٍ هُمَّدا
Qutayla said, “Why does your body look so wretched?
And I see your clothes worn out and threadbare.
أَذلَلتَ نَفسَكَ بَعدَ تَكرِمَةٍ لَها
أَو كُنتَ ذا عَوَزٍ وَمُنتَظِرٍ غَدا
Have you humbled yourself after the honor you once enjoyed,
or did poverty leave you waiting upon tomorrow?
أَم غابَ رَبُّكَ فَاِعتَرَتكَ خَصاصَةٌ
فَلَعَلَّ رَبُّكَ أَن يَعودَ مُؤَيَّدا
Or has your lord gone away, so hardship overtook you?
Perhaps your lord will return in strength.”
رَبّي كَريمٌ لا يُكَدِّرُ نِعمَةً
وَإِذا يُناشَدُ بِالمَهارِقِ أَنشَدا
“My lord is generous; he never clouds a favor,
and when appealed to through written petitions, he answers.
وَشِمِلَّةٍ حَرفٍ كَأَنَّ قُتودَها
جَلَّلتُهُ جَونَ السَراةِ خَفَيدَدا
Many a lean, high-bred, slender she-camel, whose saddle-frame
I draped with a dark-backed, thickly padded covering;
وَكَأَنَّها ذو جُدَّةٍ غِبَّ السُرى
أَو قارِحٌ يَتلو نَحائِصَ جُدَّدا
she seemed a creature of force after a night’s travel,
or a mature stallion following fresh, lean mares;
أَو صَعلَةٌ بِالقارَتَينِ تَرَوَّحَت
رَبداءَ تَتَّبِعُ الظَليمَ الأَربَدا
or an ostrich hen at al-Qaratayn, returning at evening,
dust-gray, following the dark male ostrich.
يَتَجارَيانِ وَيَحسَبانِ إِضاعَةً
مُكثَ العِشاءِ وَإِن يُغيما يَفقِدا
The two race on, each thinking it wasteful
to linger for an evening meal; if hidden from sight, each loses the other.
طَوراً تَكونُ أَمامَهُ فَتَفوتُهُ
وَيَفوتُها طَوراً إِذا ما خَوَّدا
At times she races ahead of him and escapes him;
at times he escapes her when they plunge into speed.
وَعُذافِرٍ سَدَسٍ تَخالُ مَحالَهُ
بُرجاً تُشَيِّدُهُ النَبيطُ القَرمَدا
And many a mighty six-year-old camel—you would think his bulk
a tower raised by the Nabataeans in brick.
وَإِذا يَلوثُ لُغامَهُ بِسَديسِهِ
ثَنّى فَهَبَّ هِبابَهُ وَتَزَيَّدا
When he smears his slaver with his sixth tooth,
he doubles his stride, surges forward, and increases his pace.
وَكَأَنَّهُ هِقلٌ يُباري هِقلَهُ
رَمداءَ في خيطٍ نَقانِقَ أَرمَدا
He seems a male ostrich racing his mate,
an ash-gray hen amid a file of clamorous, dusky birds.
أَمسى بِذي العَجلانِ يَقرو رَوضَةً
خَضراءَ أَنضَرَ نَبتُها فَتَرَأَّدا
At evening, at Dhu al-Ajlan, he grazes through a meadow,
green, its freshest growth luxuriant and bending.
أَذهَبتُهُ بِمَهامِهٍ مَجهولَةٍ
لا يَهتَدي بُرتٌ بِها أَن يَقصِدا
I drove him across unknown, trackless wastes
where even Burt could find no course to follow.
مَن مُبلِغٌ كِسرى إِذا ما جاءَهُ
عَنّي مَآلِكَ مُخمِشاتٍ شُرَّدا
Who will convey word to Khosrow, when he comes before him,
from me—a far-ranging message, sent abroad:
آلَيتُ لا نُعطيهِ مِن أَبنائِنا
رُهناً فَيُفسِدَهُم كَمَن قَد أَفسَدا
I swore we would give him none of our sons
as hostages for him to corrupt, as he corrupted others,
حَتّى يُفيدَكَ مِن بَنيهِ رَهينَةً
نَعشٌ وَيَرهَنَكَ السَماكُ الفَرقَدا
until Na‘sh delivers one of its sons to you as hostage
and al-Simak pledges al-Farqad to you as security.
إِلّا كَخارِجَةَ المُكَلِّفِ نَفسَهُ
وَاِبنَي قَبيصَةَ أَن أَغيبَ وَيَشهَدا
Unless Kharijah, who has taken the burden upon himself,
and the two sons of Qabisa—while I am absent and they bear witness—
أَن يَأتِياكَ بِرُهنِهِم فَهُما إِذاً
جُهِدا وَحُقَّ لَخائِفٍ أَن يُجهَدا
should come to you with their people’s pledges; then indeed
they have been hard-pressed—and one who fears may rightly be pressed hard.
كَلّا يَمينَ اللَهِ حَتّى تُنزِلوا
مِن رَأسِ شاهِقَةٍ إِلَينا الأَسوَدا
Never! By God’s oath—not until you bring down
al-Aswad from the summit of a towering peak to us.
لَنُقاتِلَنَّكُمُ عَلى ما خَيَّلَت
وَلَنَجعَلَنَّ لِمَن بَغى وَتَمَرَّدا
We shall surely fight you over what you have conjured,
and for every aggressor and rebel we shall make
ما بَينَ عانَةَ وَالفُراتِ كَأَنَّما
حَشَّ الغُواةُ بِها حَريقاً موقَدا
the land between Anah and the Euphrates as though
the deluded had packed it with a blazing, kindled fire.
خُرِبَت بُيوتُ نَبيطَةٍ فَكَأَنَّما
لَم تَلقَ بَعدَكَ عامِراً مُتَعَهِّدا
The houses of Nabita were laid waste, as though
after you they had found no settled keeper to tend them.
لَسنا كَمَن جَعَلَت إِيادٌ دارَها
تَكريتَ تَمنَعُ حَبَّها أَن يُحصَدا
We are not like Iyad, who made its home
at Tikrit, keeping its grain from being harvested:
قَوماً يُعالِجُ قُمَّلاً أَبناؤُهُم
وَسَلاسِلاً أُجُداً وَباباً مُؤصَدا
a people whose sons busy themselves with lice,
and with stout chains and a barred gate.
جَعَلَ الإِلَهُ طَعامَنا في مالِنا
رِزقاً تَضَمَّنَهُ لَنا لَن يَنفَدا
God has placed our food within our wealth,
a provision guaranteed to us, never to run out:
مِثلَ الهِضابِ جَزارَةً لِسُيوفِنا
فَإِذا تُراعُ فَإِنَّها لَن تُطرَدا
beasts like hills, fit for slaughter by our swords;
when alarm comes, they will not be driven away.
ضَمِنَت لَنا أَعجازُهُنَّ قُدورَنا
وَضُروعُهُنَّ لَنا الصَريحَ الأَجرَدا
Their haunches guarantee our cooking pots,
and their udders give us pure, unmixed milk.
فَاِقعُد عَلَيكَ التاجُ مُعتَصِباً بِهِ
لا تَطلُبَنَّ سَوامَنا فَتَعَبَّدا
So sit with the crown bound upon your head;
do not demand our grazing herds and seek to enslave us.
فَلَعَمرُ جَدِّكَ لَو رَأَيتَ مَقامَنا
لَرَأَيتَ مِنّا مَنظَراً وَمُؤَيَّدا
By the life of your forefather, had you seen our station,
you would have seen among us a formidable, reinforced array:
في عارِضٍ مِن وائِلٍ إِن تَلقَهُ
يَومَ الهِياجِ يَكُن مَسيرُكَ أَنكَدا
a storm cloud of Wa’il; if you meet it
on the day of battle, your road will grow most bitter.
وَتَرى الجِيادَ الجُردَ حَولَ بُيوتِنا
مَوقوفَةً وَتَرى الوَشيجَ مُسَنَّدا
You would see sleek, unmarked horses around our tents,
standing ready, and the spears set upright in ranks.
