أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَبيتَنَّ لَيلَةً
بِحَزمِ الصَفا تَهفو عَلَيَّ جَنوبُ
Ah, if only I knew: shall I spend a night
on the ridge of al-Ṣafā, with a south wind wafting over me?
وَهَل آتِيَنَّ الحَيَّ شَطراً بُيوتِهِم
بِذي جَوفَرٍ شَيءٍ إِلَيَّ عَجيبُ
And shall I reach the tribe, making for their dwellings
at Dhū Jawfar? What a wondrous thing that would be to me—
غَداةَ رَبيعٍ أَو عَشِيَّةَ صَيِّفٍ
لِقُرَيانِهِ جُنحَ الظَلامِ دَبيبُ
on a morning of spring rain, or an evening of summer rain,
when, through its channels under darkness’s wing, the waters softly creep.
Sol 5.6