قفْ بي على منزلٍ بالربعِ قد دَثَرا

أبدى الزمانُ لنا في طيَّهِ عِبَرا

Stop with me at a dwelling in the wilderness that time has laid waste

Fate has shown us its lessons in its folds

أين الأحبَّةُ قد كانت وجوهُهمُ

حسناً تُخَجَّلُ فيه الشمسَ والقمرا

Where are the loved ones whose faces were so beautiful

That they shamed the sun and the moon

وقفتُ فيه فلم ألمحْ لهم أثراً

بين الطلولِ ولم أسمعْ لهم خَبَرا

I stood there but found no trace of them

Among the sand dunes, nor did I hear news of them

أحبَّةٌ كان مستوراً حديثُهمُ

حتى تطاولَ عمرُ البينِ فاشتهرا

Loved ones whose talk was kept secret

Until the long separation between us became notorious

لولاهمُ ما نهاني الوجدُ مقتدراً

عما يحاولهُ منّي ولا امَرا

Had it not been for them, passion would not have prevented me

From what it attempts with me, nor would I resist

أجَّجتُ نارَ غرامي في ملاعبهِ

بفائضِ الدمعِ في الأطلالِ فاستقرا

I kindled the fire of my passion in its playgrounds

With copious tears at the ruins, so it settled

وأَخْجَلَتْ سُحُبُ الجفانِ هاطلةً

سُحْباً حملنَ لسُقيا تُربهِ المطرا

And the clouds of my eyelids pouring down

Brought rain to irrigate its soil

يا ربعُ قد كنتَ لي قبلَ النوى وطناً

بلغتُ فيكَ على رغمِ العِدى وَطَرا

Oh wilderness, you were my homeland before intention

I reached you despite hostility and crossed rugged terrain

أشكو إليكَ نوًى باتتْ تُؤرّقُني

وكنتُ مِن قبلِها لا أعرفُ السَّهَرا

I complain to you of an ardour that keeps me awake

When before I did not know sleeplessness

ما لي ومالكَ قد جدَّدتُ لي شَجَناً

بالراحلينَ وقد أحدثتَ لي ذِكّرا

Why do you and I renew a yearning in me

For the departed, and remind me of them?

عُلالةً أشكتي ما بي إلى طللٍ

مثلي عليه دليلُ الشوقِ قد ظهرا

To the ruins I complained of what was in me

My passion was a guide that appeared

نهنهتُ دمعي وخاطبتُ الديارَ أسًى

حتى إذا لم يُجبني رسمُهنَّ جرى

I checked my tears and addressed the dwellings in sorrow

But when their outlines did not answer me, they flowed

ونحتُ في جنباتِ الربعِ مِن وَلَهٍ

شوقاً فكدتُ به أستنطقُ الحجرا

And I carved from deep longing in the sides of the wilderness

Nearly making the rock speak

وهبَّ معتلُّ أنفاسِ النسيمِ على

تلكَ الرياضِ بليلاً نشرُه عَطِرا

The sighs of the gentle breeze blew

Upon those meadows, its scent spreading in the night

منازلٌ طابَ نفّاحُ النسيمِ بها

وطابَ سكانُها قِدْماً فطِبنَ ثرى

Abodes made fragrant by the breeze’s breath

And its people blessed of old, so the soil was hallowed

تلكَ الديارُ سقاها الدمعُ مُنبجِساً

شؤبوبُه دائمَ التسكابِ منهمرا

Those homes my spilling tears watered

Their showers ever pouring down heavily

وبارقٍ ما روتْ ليلاً شرارتُه

اِلاّ وقابلَ مِن وجدي بكم شررا

And lightning that did not give drink to the night

Except that my passion returned its sparks twofold

ضاءَ الظلامَ وقد كانتْ ذوائبُه

في الأفقِ عاقدةً مِن شَعرِه طُرَرا

It illuminated the darkness, though its tresses

Were contracted on the horizon in plaits

فما خَبا البرقُ إلا مِن زِنادِ هوًى

ما بين جنبَّي أبدى نُورَه وورى

So the lightning did not fail except from the flint

Of passion that showed its light and kindled

وزارني طيفُ مَن أهوى زيارتَه

حتى إذا ما رآني ساهراً نَفَرا

The phantom of the one I loved visited me

Until when he saw me keeping vigil, he fled

سرى اليَّ ودونَ الملتقى قَذَفٌ

في الليلِ يركبُ من أهوالِه الخَطَرا

He came to me, though between the meeting place

In the night is a gulf fraught with perils

عجبتُ كيف سرى والليلُ مُنْسَدِلٌ

جِلبابُه نحوَ عينٍ ما تذوقُ كَرَى

I wondered how he came though the night had

Lowered its cloak over an eye that knows no sleep

فلستُ أدرى وقد شابتْ مفارقُه

أضوءُ برقٍ بدا أم وجهُه بَدَرا

And I know not, after his departure that mottled

My cheek, if it was a bright lightning or his face the moon

وقائلٍ ودموعي بعدَ فرقتهِ

في الخدَّ تُخْجِلُ مِن تَسكابِها النهرا

And I asked, while my tears after his separation

Poured down my cheek, shaming rivers in their flow

ما بالُ دمعكَ ما ينفكُّ منسفحاً

اِمّا على مربعٍ أو ظاعنٍ هَجَرا

Why do your tears not cease spilling

Whether on a paved floor or one in rubble?

تُبدي بتَذكارِ أيامٍ به سَلَفَتْ

اِن غابَ عن منتدى الأوطانِ أو حضرا

They show, in remembering days gone by with him

If he is absent from the land’s assembly or present

وما يفيدُكَ مِن بعدِ الفراقِ اِذا اتخذتَ

ذكرَ ليالي المنحنى سَمَرا

And of what use after separation is making

Memories of the wavy nights a companion?

وهل تردُّ لكَ الذكرى زمانَ هوًى

قد كنتَ تَحمَدُ فيه الوِردَ والصَّدَرا

Can reminiscence restore for you a time of passion

When you praised the flowers and full moons?

فقلتُلي راحةٌ في الدمعِ أسفحُه

اِذا مُنِعْتُ إلى أهلِ الحِمى النظرا

So I said there is comfort in tears I spill

When I am barred from gazing on the encampment’s folk

وفي الربوعِ إذا خاطبتُ أرسمَها

بالشَّعرِ وانحلَّ خيطُ الدمعِ فانتثرا

And in the meadows, when I address their outlines

In verse, and the string of tears scatters and disperses

ووشَّحتْ كلماتي كلَّ ناحيةٍ

منها فصارتْ على لَبّاتِها دُرَرا

My words adorned every spot among them

And became upon their slopes pearls

شِعرٌ له نفثاتُ السحرِ خالصةً

مِن دونِ شعرِ أُناسٍ قلَّما سَحَرا

Poetry with the essence of pure sorcery

Unlike other people’s verse, which seldom enchants

له إذا أنشدوه في مجالسهمْ

عَرْفٌ يُخَجَّلُ في ناديهمُ القُطُرا

When they recite it in their gatherings

It has a fragrance that shames their perfumes

فلستُ أخشى عليه أن يُمَلَّ اِذا

فاه الرواةُ به أن قلَّ أو كَثُرا

So I do not fear it will pall when narrators

Speak it, be they few or many