سَقى دارَها منْ مُنْحَنى الأجْرَعِ الفَرْدِ

أجَشُّ نَمومُ البَرْقِ مُرْتَجِزُ الرَّعْدِ

He watered her abode from the bend of the lone hillock,

The lightning more brilliant, the thunder reverberating.

فَباتَ يُحَيّي بالحَيا عَرَصاتِها

وهُنَّ على الهُوجِ المَراويدِ تَسْتَعْدي

So he spent the night cheering its meadows,

While they, above the water-skins, prepared to receive.

فلا زالَ يَكسوها الرّبيعُ وشائِعاً

تَرِفُّ حَواشِيها على عَلَمَيْ نَجْدِ

So Spring never ceased clothing it, flowers spreading

And overflowing at its edges upon the banners of Nejd.

ويُفْعِمُ غُدْراناً كأنّ يَدَ الصَّبا

تَجُرُّ علَيْها رَفْرَفَ النَّثْرَةِ السَّرْدِ

As though the hand of the morning breeze

Drew over it the fluttering of leaves gently falling.

بِها تَسْحَبُ الأرْماحَ فِهْرُ بنُ مالِكٍ

إذا ما شَحا الرّاعي ليَكْرَعَ في الوِرْدِ

With it the lances are drawn by the gallant son of Malik

When the shepherd moves to graze in the myrtle.

وتَدْفَعُ عنهُ كلَّ أشْوَسَ باسِلٍ

بمَسْنونَةٍ زُرْقٍ ومَلْبونَةٍ جُردِ

And it turns from him all the evils of every adversary

With a burnished sword and a polished coat of mail.

يَصوبُ بأيديهِمْ نَجيعٌ ونائِلٌ

ولولا الندىً لم تَسْتَنِرْ صَفْحَةُ المَجْدِ

Their hands direct the companionable and the attainable

And were it not for the dew, the page of glory would not shine.

بكى حَضَنٌ إذْ عُرِّيَتْ هَضباتُهُ

منَ البَطَلِ الجَحجاحِ والفَرَسِ النَّهْدِ

A bosom wept when its hillsides were stripped

Of the dashing horseman and the bending, pliant steed.

وفي الجيرَةِ الغادينَ هَيْفاءُ غادَةٌ

نَأَتْ لا دَنا قُرْطٌ لظَمْياءَ منْ عِقْدِ

And in the departed caravan a lovely beauty departed

Who never drew near, no anklet to a thirsty one.

إذا نَظَرَتْ أغْضى لها الرّيمُ طَرْفَهُ

وإنْ سَفَرَتْ أخْفى سَنا البَدْرِ ما تُبْدي

When she looked, the gazelle lowered its eyes from her,

And when she traveled, she hid the crescent moon's jewels.

خَليليَّ إنْ علّلْتُماني فعَرِّضا

بِها قَبلَ تَصْريحِ الفؤادِ عنِ الوَجْدِ

My two friends, if you find me infatuated, make excuses

For me before my heart reveals its secret passion.

فما هَبَّ عُلْويُّ الرّياحِ ولا بَدا

سَنا بارِقٍ إلا طَرِبْتُ إِلى هِنْدِ

No lofty wind blew nor brilliant lightning flashed

But I was disturbed, yearning for India.

وقد كَمَنَتْ في القَلْبِ منّي صَبابَةٌ

إليها كُمونَ النارِ في طَرَفِ الزَّنْدِ

For in my heart smoldered an ember

Like the hidden fire in the edge of the flint.

أأنْقُضُ عهْدَ المالِكيَّةِ باللِّوى

إذاً لا رَعى العَلْياءَ إنْ خُنْتُها عَهْدي

Should I break the covenant of Malikia in the twisting valleys?

Never would I herd the high grounds if I betrayed it!

وأغْدِرُ وابْنا خِنْدِفٍ يَهْتِفانِ بي

ويَلْمَعُ حَدُّ السّيفِ منْ خِلَلِ الغِمدِ

Rather I and the two sons of Khundif shout at me

As the gleam of the sword flashes from the edge of the scabbard—

ولو لمْ يَكُنْ فيَّ الوَفاءُ سجِيّةً

دَعاني إليها الأرْيَحيُّ أبو سَعْدِ

Had there not been loyalty within me instinctively,

Ariha's Abu Sa'd would have summoned me to it—

فتىً يَفْتَري شَأْوَ المعالي بهِمّةٍ

تُناجي غِرارَ السّيْفِ في طَلَبِ الجَمْدِ

A gallant who pretends to lofty qualities with resolution

Addressing the murmurs of the sword, seeking glory—

وما رَوْضَةٌ حَلَّ الرّبيعُ نِطاقَها

وجَرَّتْ بِها الأنْواءُ حاشِيَةَ البُرْدِ

No meadow where Spring stretched its folds

And the gusts drew on it a lining of cold—

إذا حَدَرَتْ فيها النُّعامى لِثامَها

ثَنى عِطْفَهُ الحَوْذانُ والْتَفَّ بالرَّنْدِ

When the ostriches gathered there, folding their wrappings—

The doe and roebuck twisted and mingled confusedly—

بأطْيَبَ نَشْراً منْ شَمائِلِهِ التي

تَنُمُّ بِرَيّاها على العَنْبَرِ الوَرْدِ

With the sweetest aroma of his features

Growing with its greenery in the rosebuds—

أغَرُّ إذا هَزَّتْهُ نَغْمَةُ مُعْتَفٍ

تَبَلَّجَ عنْ أُكْرومَةٍ وندىً عِدِّ

I yearned when the tune of a lute struck him

And he shone through an 'ukruma robe and dewy splendor—

إليكَ زَجَرْتُ العِيسَ بين عِصابَةٍ

كُهولٍ وشُبّان وأغْلِمةٍ مُرْدِ

To you I drove the camels through a horde

Of mature, young, and beardless men—

تَخوضُ خُدارِيَّ الظّلامِ بأوْجُهٍ

تُقايِضُ غَيَّ الدّاعِرِيَّةِ بالرُّشْدِ

They penetrate the darkness' pavilions with faces

That trade the blindness of Du'ayriya for composure—

على كُلِّ فَتْلاءِ الذِّراعِ كأنّها

منْ الضُّمْرِ شِلْوُ الأصْبَحيِّ منَ القِدِّ

On each muscle of the forearm as though it were

TheSyncytium of the early morning from plaited fibers—

تَرَكْنا وَراءَ الرّمْلِ دارَ إقامَةٍ

ملأْتُ بِها كَفَّيَّ منْ لَبَدِ الأُسْدِ

We left behind, beyond the sands, an abode

Where I filled my hands with the lion's fangs—

ولولاكَ لم تَخطرْ بِبالي قَصائِدٌ

هَوابِطُ في غَوْرٍ طَوالِعُ منْ نَجْدِ

Were it not for you, no descending poems in a valley

Or rising from Nejd would have crossed my mind—

لَحِقْتُ بِها شأْوَ المُجيدينَ قَبْلَها

وهَيْهاتَ أن يُؤْتَى بأمثالِها بَعْدي

I would have attained, before them, the glory of the excellent

And alas, none like them will be brought after me—

فهُنَّ عَذارى مَهْرُها الوُدُّ لا الندىً

وما كُلُّ مَنْ يُعْزى إِلى الشِّعْرِ يَسْتَجْدي

They are maidens whose bride-price is love, not rain,

And not all who are credited with poetry seek gifts—