أجارتنا غُضِّي من السّير أو قِفِي

وإن كُنتِ لما تُزمعي البَين فأصرِفي

Chide me for walking or stop here,

Though you intend to part, be turned from your intent,

أسائلكِ أو أُخبركِ عن ذي لُبانَةٍ

سقيم فؤادٍ بالحِسانِ مُكَلَّفِ

I ask or inform you about the sandalwood perfume,

Whose loving heart is burdened and troubled,

فَصَدَّت وقالَت والكَبيرُ بسُهمَة

متى يَبكِ يوماً للتصابي يُعَنَّفِ

She turned away and said while the old man dozed,

"When will he weep one day for the loss?"

ولو عَرضَت يوم الرَّحيل بنشرها

لذي كَربةٍ مُوفٍ على الموت مُدنَفِ

Had she on the day of departure tried to comfort him,

The distressed man, loyal to death,

إذَن لشفته بعد ما خيل أنه

أخو سَقم قد خالط النفس مُتلِفِ

Then she would have allowed him after he imagined,

That he was like a sick brother to her soul,

سبيّةُ سَفَّانين قد خُدعا بها

تصيبُ الفؤادَ من لذيذٍ وتشتفي

A captive of sailors tricked by her,

Who takes hearts with pleasure yet is jealous,

ولو لُقي النُّعمانُ حَيّاً لَنالها

ولو بعث الجنيّ في الناس يصطفي

Had Nu'man lived he would have won her,

Or if he returned to choose from all people,

لغاضَ عليها ذاتَ دلٍّ ومِيسمٍ

ووجهٍ كدينار العزيز المشوّفِ

He would desire her with a supple body and dimples,

And a face like a precious golden coin,

أسِيلَةُ مُستَنِّ الدُّموعِ نَبيلةٌ

كأَدماء من أظبي نَبالةَ مُخرفِ

A willow of tear shedding, a noble one,

Like the blood of a grey deer richly adorned,

تَظَلُّ النهارَ في الظِلال وترتعي

فروعَ الهدَالِ والأراك المصَيّفِ

She stays in the shade by day and grazes,

On the tender tips and fresh treetops,

ويَذعَرُ سرب الحيّ وسواسُ حليها

إذا حركته من دعاثٍ ورفرفِ

And a flock takes alarm and its trinkets clatter,

When she stirs it with her pace and fluttering,

ولم أرَ في سُفلي ربيعةَ مثلها

ولا مضرَ الأعلين قيس وخندفِ

And I have not seen among the lowly women of Rabi'ah one like her,

Nor among the noble women of Mudar, Qais and Khindif.

إذا هي قامت في الثياب تأوذن

سقية غَيلٍ أو غَمامَة صيفِ

When she stands in clothes, she sways gently,

Like a cup of wine or a summer cloud,

تداركني أسيابَ آل مُجَلّم

وقد كدت أهوى بين نيقين نفنفِ

She makes me forget the kinsmen of Mujallem,

When I had nearly fallen between two cliffs,

همُ القومُ يُمسي جارُهم في غضارة

سليماً سَويّ اللحم لم يُتجرّفِ

While the people at dusk find their neighbor,

Unharmed, intact, not ripped to shreds,

وَهم يضربون الكبش يبرقُ بيضُه

بأسنانِهم والماسِخيِّ المزخرفِ

And they strike the ram whose fleece flashes white,

With their teeth and decorated knife.