وَمُشْبِلَةٍ شَمْطاءَ تَبْكي مِنَ النَّوَى

وقَد غَيَّبَتْ عَنْ غَابِها أَسَداً وَرْدا

A dark-skinned beauty weeps from yearning,

And a lion has vanished from its lair.

وَتَحْتَ حَبابِ الدَّمْعِ عَيْنٌ رَويَّةٌ

مِنَ الدَّمِ وَالأحشاءُ مُضْمِرَةٌ وَجْدا

Beneath eyelids flowing with tears

Is a watery eye, while entrails writhe with passion.

إِذا طَرَق الرَّكْبُ العِراقيُّ أرْضَها

بِحَيْثُ تُظِلُّ السُّمْرُ مُقْرَبَةً جُرْدا

When the Iraqi caravan enters her land

Where the black night shadows fall thick,

وَيَحمي ذِمارَ الجارِ كلُّ ابْنِ حُرَّةٍ

يَكادُ مِنَ الإكرامِ يُوْطِئُهُ خَدَّا

And protects the neighbour from harm, each noble youth

Is so generous he almost kisses the ground.

تَولّتْ بِقَلْبٍ يَسْتَطيرُ شَرارُهُ

إِذا قَدَحَتْ أَيْدي الهُمومِ بِهِ زَنْدا

She turns away with a heart that sparks wildly

When the hands of sorrow strike its flint.

وَقَالتْ نِساءُ الحَيِّ أَيْنَ ابْنُ أُخْتِنا

أَلا أَخْبِرونَا عَنْهُ حُيِّيتُمُ وَفْدا

The women of the tribe say, “Where is the son of our sister?

Tell us of him, you have our lives!”

رَعاهُ ضَمانُ اللهِ هَلْ في بِلادِكمْ

أَخْو كَرَمِ يَرْعَى لِذي حَسَبٍ عَهْدا

“May God protect him! Is there in your country

A brother of generosity who keeps faith with the noble?”

فَإِنَّ الّذي خَلَّفْتُموهُ بِأَرْضِكُمْ

فَتىً مَنْ رَأَى آباءهُ ذَكَرَ المَجْدا

“The one you left behind in your land

Is a young man whose fathers were famed for glory.

أَبَغْداذُ كَمْ تُنْسيهِ نَجْداً وَأَهْلَهُ

أَلا خَابَ من يَشْري بِبغْدادِكُمْ نَجْدا

“Oh Baghdad, how you make him forget Najd and his family!

Wretched is he who would buy your Baghdad with his Najd.”

فَدَتْهُنَّ نَفْسي لو سَمِعْنَ بِما أرى

رَمَى كُلُّ جِيدٍ مِنْ تنَهُّدِها عِقْدا

I’d ransom them with my soul, if they but heard my condition

Each bracelet of theirs would shed its pearls in sighing.

أَلَسْتُ مُقيماً في أُناسٍ وِدادُهُمْ

يُشابُ بِغِلٍّ حينَ أَمْحَضُهُمْ وُدّا

Do I not live among a people whose love for me

Turns to rancour when I display affection?

وَيَثْلِمُ عِرْضِي عِنْدَهُمْ كلُّ كاشِحٍ

وَأَدْفَعُ عَنْ أَعْراضِهِمُ أَلسُناً لُدّا

Every slanderer wounds my honour among them.

I parry their sharp tongues and show them patience,

وَأَنْصُرُهُمْ وَالسَّيْفُ يَدْمَى غِرارُهُ

وَأُخْذَلُ فِيهمْ وَهْوَ يَعْتَنِقُ الغِمْدا

I defend them when swords run red with blood,

Yet I am abandoned among them, while sheathed in the scabbard.

وَهُمْ في غَواشِي نَشْوَةٍ مِنْ ثَرائِهِمْ

وَلا خَيْرَ في مَالٍ إِذا لَمْ يُفِدْ حَمْدا

Drunk with the rapture of their wealth,

Yet wealth is useless unless it earns praise.

فَمَنْ لي على غَيِّ التَّمَنِّي بَصاحِبٍ

سَليمِ نَواحِي الصَّدْرِ لا يَحْمِلُ الحِقْدا

So who will join me in my lonely dreaming

With a heart secure from malice?

يَعُدُّ الغِنَى فَضْفاضَةً ذاتَ رَفْرَفٍ

وَصَمْصامَةً عَضْباً وَذا خُصَلٍ نَهْدا

Who counts riches as a fluttering vanity,

A bramble full of thorns and writhing snakes?

وَلَوْلا افْتِراشُ الذِّئْبِ لِلْغَدْرِ صَدْرُهُ

لَما كُنْتُ أَتْلَو في مطالِبَها الأُسْدا

Were it not for the wolf's treachery,

I'd not complain of the lion's fury!