لَولا أُميمَةُ لَمْ أَجزَعْ مِنَ العَدَمِ
وَلَمْ أُقاسِ الدُّجى في حِنْدِسِ الظُّلَمِ
Were it not for Umayma, I would not dread destitution,
nor would I brave the night through the blackest depths of gloom.
أُحاذِرُ الفُقْرَ يَوماً أَنْ يُلِمَّ بها
فَيهْتِكَ السِّتْرَ عن لَحْمٍ على وَضَمِ
I fear that poverty may one day descend upon her
and strip the covering from my flesh, exposed on a butcher’s block.
تَهْوى حَياتِي وَأَهوى مَوْتَها شَفَقاً
وَالمَوْتُ أَكْرَمُ نَزّالٍ على الحُرَمِ
She longs for me to live; I, out of tenderness, long for her death—
for death is the nobler guest to visit the women under one’s protection.
Sol 5.6