تَبدت فَلاح البَدر مِن داخل البَرد

وَفاهَت فَأَضحى الدر مُنتَشر العقد

The radiance of the full moon appeared from within the cold

And it blossomed, so the pearls were scattered about

وَمرت كَما مَر النَسيم فَلو رَنا

إِلَيها صَحيح القَلب ماتَ مِن الوَجد

It passed by like a breeze, so if one pure of heart

Had glanced towards it, he would have died of passion

وَطارَ بِها ريح الصبا فَتَأودَت

وَمالَت كَما مالَ القَضيب مِن الرند

The morning breeze carried it away, so it swooned

And leaned like a slender branch bends

وَمن عجبي أن الكَريمة تَنتَمي

إِلى الترك وَالأَلحاظ تعزى إِلى الهند

And how wondrous that the generous lady belongs

To the Turks, though her glances are attributed to India

رَوى سلطها عَن طَلعة الفَجر غرة

وَحمرة ذاكَ الخَد عَن حُمرة الوَرد

Its advent described the dawn’s emergence to us

And the redness of that cheek described the red rose

وَحَدثنا ذاكَ الرضاب عَن اللَمى

وَابريق ذاكَ الجيد عَن بيضة النهد

And that slender shape told us about a gazelle’s neck

And that chaste bosom told of an egg in a breast

وَلَم أَدرِ قَبل الحُب نَجلاء طفلة

تَصيد فُؤاد اللَيث وَالأسد الوَرد

I had not known before love a wily child

Who hunts the hearts of lions and tender rose

وَلَما رَأتني في المَدائن فاغراً

فمي نَحوَها وَالدمع قَد سال عَن خَدي

When she saw me in the city with my mouth agape

Towards her, as tears flowed down my cheek

رَمَتني فَما أَخطَت وَمرت فَما انثَنَت

فَقُلت وَقَلبي ذاب مِن شدة الوَقد

She glanced at me but did not miss, and passed but did not turn

So I said, as my heart melted from the intensity of passion

خُذوا بِدَمي مِن ذا الغَزال فَإِنَّه

رَماني بِسَهمي مقتليه عَلى عَمد

Take my blood from that gazelle, for she

Shot me with my own arrow, purposely killing me

وَلا تَقتلوه إِنَّني أنا عبده

وَفي مذهَبي لا يقتل الحر بِالعَبد

But do not kill her, for I am her slave

And in my doctrine, the free man is not killed for a slave

رَعى اللَه أَياماً تَقضت وَساعة

لسارقها وَالعَقل ضل عَن الرُشد

May God protect the days that have passed and the moment

Stolen by their thief, as the mind strayed from righteousness

وَدون حماها كُل أَصيد باسل

يَصول بِأَقوام قساورة مرد

Without their protection, every mighty warrior

Roams, attacking bands of heroes

أَقول لِمَن تلكَ القِباب مكنياً

كَذاكر سَلمى وَالضَمير إِلى هند

I say to whoever owns those domes, taking refuge

Like one remembering Salma, while the conscience is in India

فَقَيل لأَقوام هم الأنف في الوَرى

وَجمجمة الأَشراف في العز وَالمَجد

So it was said: They are people who are the finest in existence

And the pinnacle of nobility in honor and glory

مُلوك مِن الأَتراك صينت رباعهم

بسمر القنا الخطي وَالصارم الهندي

Kings of the Turks whose lands

Were guarded by the Syrian bow and the Indian sword

مِن النفر الشم العَرانين إِن سَطوا

أَبادوا وَإِن جادوا فَكَالوابل المجدي

Among these proud people of lofty origin, if they conquer

They destroy, and if they give, they give bountifully

فَقُلت لَقَد خاطرت يا نَفس بِالحشا

وَبعت عَلى الأَتراك قَلباً بلا نقد

So I said: My soul, you have risked with foolishness

And sold, for the Turks, a heart without worth

أَتَرجو الثُرَيا يا سهيل وَلَم تَزل

تَروم الشفا وَالبرء مِن شفة الأسد

Do you hope for riches, O Suhail, when you always

Intend to gain health and cure from the lion's mouth?

فَقالَت صه ما لي أَراك أَخا العُلى

قَدحت وَما أوريت يا بارد الزند

She said, hush! Why do I see you, O brother of nobility

Accusing while you have not demonstrated, O cold flint?

وأَنتَ يَماني الأُصول وَيانع ال

فُروع وَزاكي الأُم وَالأَب وَالجد

You are Yemeni in origin and fresh in branches

And pure in mother, father, and ancestors

وَأَنت إِذا داعي الأَكارم قَد دَعا

دعيت بِماضي الحَد وَالعلم الفَرد

And you, when the generous call, are called

With a brilliant, unmatched knowledge

وَإِنَّك مَأمون البَوايق أَبلج

وَإنَّك بَين السمط وَاسطة العقد

You are trusted with calamities, a glistening white

And you are, among the lofty, a centerpiece

وَما فيك غَير الفقر عيب وَإِنما

يُعاب الفَتى لُؤماً وَلَو كان ذا جد

Naught but poverty is a vice in you, but rather

A man is blamed for villainy even if he is highborn

وَلا شَك أن المال عاد وَرائح

وَان فخار المال مِن شيمة الوَغد

There is no doubt that money passes and goes

And boasting of money is the trait of the vulgar

فَقُم وَادع للأَمر الخَطير أَخا العُلى

وَلذ بِكَريم الأَصل مِن سالف العَهد

So rise and call upon, for the critical matter, a brother of nobility

And take pleasure in one noble in origin, of olden covenant

فَتى جاد بِالأَموال وَهيَ غَزيرة

وَبَث النَدى وَالعرف في القُرب وَالبُعد

A man who gave generously while his wealth was abundant

And diffused benevolence and virtue, near and far

كَريم مَتى أَمدحه أَمدحه وَالوَرى

مَعي وَإِذا ما لمته لمته وَحدي

A generous man - whenever I praise him I praise him while people

Are with me, and whenever I blame him, I blame him alone

أَتانا على شَوق إِلَيهِ وَجاءَنا

عَلى قدر من غَير شَرط وَلا وَعد

He came to us out of longing for him, and came to us

At his own discretion, without condition or promise

بَشيراً بِمَولانا بَشيراً وَانَّها

بَشائر لِلأَرواح أَحلى مِن القند

Bringing good tidings of our lord, bringing good tidings, and they

Are tidings that delight the soul more than candy

فَيا مَرحَباً بِاللَيث جاء مسربلاً

وَيا مرحباً بِالسَيف سل عَن الغَمد

So welcome O lion who has come armed

And welcome O sword, ask about the sheath

وَيا مَرحباً بالبَدرِ غَير مبرقع

وَيا مرحباً بالغَيثِ والجودِ والرفد

And welcome O unveiled full moon

And welcome O rain, generosity, and plenty

وَيا مَرحباً بِالجود وَالسؤدد الَّذي

أَناف بِهِ حَقاً عَلى كُل ذي مجد

And welcome O generosity, benevolence and loftiness with which

He has rightly prided himself over all possessing glory

فَخُذها فَقَد جاءَتكَ بكراً فَريدة

رَقت منبر الأَفراح في طالع السعد

Take it, for it has come to you uniquely exquisite

It rang the platform of joy at the rise of fortune

أَنتَ بِأَحاديث الصبابة تَشتَكي

فَقَد تَنفع الشَكوى إِلى كُل ذي ود

You complain of the trials of youth

But complaint may benefit every friendly soul

أَلا فارث لي في محنَتي يا ابن يوسف

فَقَد ذُبت مِن فرط الصَبابة وَالوَجد

O inheritor of my affliction, O son of Yusuf

For I have wasted away from the intensity of youth and passion