يميناً لقد بالغتَ يا خِلَّ في العذلِ

وما هكذا فِعْلَ الأخلاءِ بالخِلَّ

By my oath, dear friend, you have gone too far in reproach;

This is not how friends should treat a friend.

اِذا أنتَ لم تُسعِدْ خليلكَ في الهوى

فَذَرْهُ لقد أمسى عنِ العَذْلِ في شُغْلِ

If you will not aid your companion in love,

Then leave him—for by now he is too consumed to heed reproach.

فلا تحسبنَّ العذلَ يُذهِبُ وجدَه

فلومُكَ بالمحبوبِ يُغري ولا يُسلي

Do not suppose that blame will banish his passion;

Your blaming him over his beloved incites him—it does not console.

وما كنتُ مِمَّنْ يُذهِبُ الوجدُ حزمَه

لعمرُكَ لولا أسهُم الأعينِ النُّجلِ

I was never one whose passion could rob him of resolve—

By your life—were it not for the arrows of those wide, dark eyes.

ولا كنتُ مِمَّنْ يشتكي جُمْلَةَ الهوى

وتفصيلَهُ لولا أليمُ هوى جُمْلِ

Nor was I one to complain of love as a whole,

Or unfold its details, but for the painful love of Juml.

فمَنْ لمشوقٍ دمعُهُ بعدَما نأتْ

مُذالٌ على الأطلالِ يسفحُ كالوَبْلِ

Who will aid a yearning lover whose tears, since she went far away,

Pour freely over the abandoned camps like a downpour,

يُسَقّي دياراً طالما عرصاتُها

تشكَّتْ اليه ما تُعانيهِ مِن مَحْلِ

Watering dwellings whose courtyards had long

Complained to him of the drought they endured?

تناءَى بهِ عن أربُعِ الجِزعِ أهوجٌ

يُباري الرياحَ الهوجَ في الحَزْنِ والسهلِ

A headstrong mount has borne him far from the dwellings by the valley bend,

Racing the raging winds over rough ground and plain.

يخوضُ الدجى والقفرَ لا يعرفُ الوَجا

اِذا ما اشتكاه العيسُ في لاحبِ السُّبلِ

It plunges through darkness and wasteland, knowing no soreness,

Though the pale camels complain of the journey on the road’s clear track.

وينصاعُ في ثِني الزمامِ كأنَّه

يحاذِرُ صلاً منه أو نهشةَ الصَّلِ

It yields to the slightest turn of the rein as though

It feared a viper from it, or the serpent’s bite.

واِنْ أسدلَ الليلُ البهيمُ ستورَه

سَرَى عَنَقاً في البيدِ يَعْسِلُ كالطَّملِ

And when black night lets down its curtains,

It travels at a long-striding pace through the waste, swaying like an ostrich cock.

اِذا رامتِ البزلُ الصَّعابُ لحاقَه

وقد ذرعَ الموماةَ أعيا على البزلِ

When hardy, full-grown camels attempt to catch it,

Having traversed the wilderness, it leaves those mature camels spent.

فترجِعُ دونَ القصدِ وهي طلائحٌ

سواهمَ مثلَ الجِذْلِ تنفخُ في الجُدْلِ

They turn back short of their goal, worn thin,

Their bodies like stumps, panting into the braided reins.

فهل يُبْلِغَنَّي دار هندٍ واِنْ نأتْ

وأصبحَ منها الوصلُ منصرِمَ الحبلِ

Will it carry me to Hind’s abode, though she be far away,

And though the cord of union with her has now been severed?

لئن جئتُها مِن بَعْدِ بُعْدٍ فظهرُه

حرامٌ على الكُورِ المبرَّحِ والرَّحْلِ

If I reach her after so long a journey, then its back

Shall be forbidden to the chafing saddle-frame and saddle.

فما ذكرتْها النفسُ إلا تحدَّرتْ

مدامعُ تُغني الأرضَ عن ساجمِ الهَطْلِ

Whenever the soul remembers her, down stream

Tears that spare the earth any need of pouring rain-clouds.

تجودُ عليها بالعشيَّ وبالضحى

فتزهو بمخضرًّ مِنَ النبتِ مُخضلَّ

They lavish themselves upon it at evening and morning,

Until it glories in lush, rain-drenched green.