حُيَّيتِ مِن دِمَنٍ ومِن أطلالٍ

ومنازلٍ بالرقمتينِ بوالِ

I was greeted by abandoned abodes and ruins,

And dwellings with drawings made with ochre and indigo,

أجَّجنَ بين أضالِعي نارَ الهوى

بمرابعٍ مِن أهلهنَّ خوالِ

They ignited within my ribs the fire of passion

With blazes from their dwellers who were my intimates,

فسقى معاهدَها عهادُ مدامعٍ

يغشى الطلولَ بوبلهِ الهطّالِ

So the rain of my streaming tears watered their covenant,

It covers the hills with its heavy downpour,

يهمي إذا بخلَ السحابُ على الثرى

بسحابةٍ وطفاءَ ذاتِ عزالي

It pours when the clouds are stingy with rain over the land

With a cloud releasing gentle, caring rain,

يروي ديارَ الغانياتِ مُلِثُّهُ

وكِناسَ كلَّ غزالةٍ وغزالِ

It waters the dwellings of singers with its flooding,

And every meadow of gazelles and fawns,

فيهنَّ مِن عَصْبِ الملاحةِ عصبةٌ

برعوا جمالاً فوقَ كلَّ جمالِ

Among them is a group with strong companionship

They excelled in beauty above all beauty,

مِن كلَّ حوراءِ اللحاظِ جفونُها

ترمي فؤادَ محبَها بنبالِ

The eyelids of every soft-eyed gazelle among them

Shoot the heart of her lover with arrows,

وقَوامِ ساجي الطرفِ يهزأُ قدُّه

مِن لينهِ بالأسمرِ العَسّالِ

And the figure of every smooth-cheeked doe mocks

His composure with her soft dark honey.

رشقوا فؤادي يومَ رامةَ فانثنى

عنهم بوجدٍ ما ألمَّ ببالي

They wounded my heart the day they turned away

And so I turned from them in fervent love for what was in my thoughts,

ولربَّ ليلٍ قد فَرَيتُ أديمَهُ

مِن فوقِ كلَّ نجيبةٍ مِحلالِ

And perhaps for many a night I wished for its darkness

Above every brilliant starry night,

حرّانَ احتثُّ النياقُ سواهماً

في البيدِ بينَ دَكادِكٍ ورِمالِ

Passionately stirring the yearning camels

In the wilderness between its plants and sands,

أضحتْ تُراعُ مِن السَّياطِ كأنَّما

تلكَ السياطُ قواتلُ الأصلالِ

They were seen fearing the whips as if

Those whips bring death to the noble,

من كلَّ جائلةِ الوَضينِ أذابَها

الاِعمالُ بينَ النصَّ والاِرقالِ

Melting them from the toil of every work

Between text and marginal notes,

فتخالُها مثلَ السفائنِ في الضحى

تعلو وترسبُ في بحارِ الآلِ

So they seemed like ships in the daylight

Rising and descending in deep seas,

طمعاً بعودِ الظاعنينَ وعودِ ما

قد ماتَ من قربٍ وطيبِ وصالِ

Longing for the return of attackers and promises of what

Had died of nearness, goodness, and union,

فلقد حُرِمتُ ببعدِ جيرانِ النقا

نوماً أُواصلَ فيه طيفَ خيالِ

So I was deprived by the distance of dear neighbors

Of sleep, continuing in it the specter of my imagination,

ومِن العجائبِ أن أُعلَّلَ بعدما

بانَ الأحبَّةُ عنهمُ بمحالِ

And of the wonders is that I was given excuses after

The loved ones were denied to me by the impossible,

وأُروَّحَ القلبَ الذي لم ينسَهمْ

بعدَ النوى بكواذبِ الآمالِ

And the heart that did not forget them was comforted

After purpose by the lies of hopes,

هيهاتَ أن يُسليهِ بعدَ رحيلهمْ

طولُ المدى وتنقُّلُ الأحوالِ

Far from it that it would console him after their departure

The length of distance and changes of time,

فلَكَمْ سكبتْ على المنازلِ أدمعاً

أرخصتُهنَّ ن وكنَّ قبلُ غوالي

So how much did I pour tears over the dwellings

Degrading them when they were once my glory,

وأذلتُ دمعي في عراصِ ربوعِها

سَحّاً ولم يكُ قبلَهُ بِمُذالِ

And I debased my tears in the plains of her dwellings

Crawling when they did not crawl before,

وسألتُها عن أهلهنَّ وما الذي أجدى

وقد رحلَ الخليطُ سؤالي

And I asked them about their people and what use is

My questioning when the loved ones are gone,

في كلَّ يومٍ لا أزالُ مروَّعاً

بغناءِ حادٍ أو بِزَمَّ جِمالِ

Every day I still have no peace

From fervent singing or the beauty of gazelles,

ولهانَ أقلقُ للحمامِ إذا شدا

مِن فوقِ البانةِ الميّالِ

Restless am I for the cooing of doves when calling

From the roof of an abandoned abode,

ولبارقٍ ما لاحَ في غَسَقِ الدُّجى

اِلاّ أَرِقْتُ لومضهِ المتعالي

And for lightning flashes in the gloom of night

Unless I stay awake for its lofty glow,

ما لي وما للامعاتِ أَشيمُها

سَفَهاً وما للهاتفاتِ ومالي

What is it to me, the lightning I blame

Foolishly, and what is it to the clouds and me,

يُضْرِمْنَ في قلبي لواعجَ جمرِه

قلبي لها بعدَ التفرُّقِِ صالِ

Kindling in my heart the embers of their fervor

My heart is theirs after the separation,

ما هبَّ معتلُّ النسيمِ عنِ الحِمى

اِلاّ فَزِعتُ إلى صَباً وشَمالِ

Nothing stirs of the defective breeze from fever

Unless I startle towards youth and north,

وسألتُ نفّاحَ النسيمِ لأنَّهُ

يَدري بِكُنْهِ قضيَّتي وبحالي

And I asked the blowing breeze as he knows

The essence of my decree and my state,

عن جيرة لم تخل فكرة خاطري

من ذكر أيام لهم وليال

About a neighbor who did not cease to occupy

My thoughts with memories of days with them and nights,

يا حارِ قد غَدَتِ الديارُ عواطلاً

منهمْ وقد كانت وهنَّ حوالِ

O stirring of passion! The abode has become desolate

Of them though it was once filled with loved ones,

أُرْدُدْ عليَّ الظاعنينَ وخلَّني

وهواهمُ وملامةَ العُذّالِ

Make me remember the departed and leave me

With their love and reproach of one who finds faults,

ودعِ القريضَ لقائليهِ سوى الذي

يأتيكَ مثلَ الدرَّ مِن أغزالي

And leave poetry to its composer unless it comes

To you like a pearl from my gazelles,

فلقد ظَفِرتُ مِن النظيمِ ببحرهِ ال

طامي وغيري منه بالأوشالِ

So I have gained from prosody in its ocean

Endless surging waves and others mere pebbles,

مِن كلَّ قافيةٍ ترى في طيَّها

ما شئتَ مِن حِكَمٍ ومِن أمثالِ

In every rhyme its schemes contain

Whatever you wish of wisdom and proverbs,

وعلى جزالتِها وجودةِ سكبِها

لم تمشِ يوماً مِسيةَ المختالِ

And in the richness of its pouring and quality

It never walks the walk of pretentiousness,

ولها المعاني الباهراتُ يَزينُها

لفظٌ كما نَضَّدْتَ سِمْطَ لآلي

And it has magnificent meanings adorned

With words well-arranged like pearls,

شِعرٌ هو السَّحرُ الحلالُ وغيرُه

شِعرٌ إذا ما جاءَ غيرُ حلالِ

Poetry which is permitted sorcery and otherwise

Just poetry when it comes is unlawful,

سِيّانِ اِكثاري إذا ألفَّتُه

يَحكي النجومَ الزُّهْرَ أو اِقلالي

It makes no difference, my abundance, if I compose

Telling of stars, flowers, or my visions,

فالفضلُ تعرفهُ وتعرفُ أهلَه

بأقلَّ شيءٍ مِن بديعِ مقالِ

For you know virtue and you know its people

With the slightest thing of eloquent speech,