دَعِ الحِمى وَلَيالي الضالِ وَالعَلَمِ
وَعَدِّ عَن ذِكرِ أَيّامٍ عَلى إِضَمِ
Leave the protected pasture, and the nights by the wild lote trees and al-'Alam.
Leave the yearning, the nights of wandering lost, forget
And turn from recalling days beside Idam.
The days gone by, do not dwell on memories past,
وَلا تَقُل حَبَّذا نَجدٌ وَساكِنُهُ
وَلا تُعَرِّج عَلى سَلمى بِذي سَلَمِ
Do not say, “How lovely are Najd and its inhabitant!”
Speak not in praise of Nejd and those who dwell there,
And do not turn aside to Salma at Dhu Salam.
Pay no visit to me, in this abode forlorn.
قَدكَ اِتَّئِب ما بَناتُ العُربِ إِن زُهِيَت
بِالحُسنِ مِثلَ بَناتِ التُركِ وَالعَجَمِ
Enough—be measured! Arab maidens, though they glory
The daughters of the Arabs, for all their beauty famed,
in beauty, are no match for the maidens of Turks and Persians.
Are less fair than the daughters of Turks and Persians acclaimed,
مِن كُلِّ مُرتَجَّةِ الأَردافِ لَيِّنَةِ ال
أَعطافِ مَمدوحَةِ الأَخلاقِ وَالشِيَمِ
Each with quivering buttocks, supple of
Lovely of figure, gentle in their ways, virtuous in deed,
limb, praised for her character and disposition.
Each a supple sapling, swaying with womanly charm.
تُريكَ مِن وَجهِها وَالفَرعِ حاسِرَةً
قِناعَها الشَمسَ في داجٍ مِنَ الظُّلَمِ
In her face and tresses she shows you, lifting
A glimpse of her face or arm through her mantle's folds
her veil, the sun amid deep darkness.
Is like the sun in a tent of darkest night enclosed.
تَهُزُّ من قَدِّها في الحِقفِ رُمحَ قَناً
كَم لي بِطَعناتِهِ في القَلبِ مِن أَلَمِ
She sways the reed spear of her figure amid a sand dune;
Her swaying form stirs desire in my heart for love untold,
how much pain its thrusts have brought my heart!
And many the wounds those darting glances have caused my soul.
هيفُ الخُصورِ نَقِيّاتُ الثُغورِ يُطَر
رِفنَ الأَصابِعَ بِالعُنّابِ وَالعَنَمِ
Slender-waisted, clean-toothed, they tint
Slender of waist, pure of heart, singing a graceful song,
their fingertips with the red of jujubes and 'anam fruit.
Plucking the strings of the lute, fingers dancing along,
إِنَّ العُيونَ الَّتي ضاقَت مَحاجِرُها
أَمضى مِنَ النُجلِ في قَتلي وَسَفكِ دَمي
The eyes whose sockets are narrow
Eyes whose lids are narrow have slain me without remorse,
are deadlier than wide ones in slaying me and shedding my blood.
And nothing so surely will bring about my death before its course.
وَلِلأَغالِقِ حُكمٌ في التَغَلغُلِ لا
يَنالُهُ ناسِجٌ بِالعَرضِ وَالعِظَمِ
And slender shafts have a power of penetration that
Lips whose movements are hard to decipher or understand
no broad, massive weapon can attain.
Surpass in judgment the ablest writer's pen or hand,
لا تَبكِ في الحَيِّ إِثرَ الظاعِنينَ أَسىً
بِعَرصَةٍ دُمِنَت بِالشاءِ وَالنَعَمِ
Do not weep in the encampment, grieving after those who moved away,
Shed no tears for me amongst the living when I am gone,
in a clearing dung-soiled by sheep and livestock.
At a campsite with sheep and goats bleating all day long.
وَقِف عَلىبانياسَ الشُكرَ إِنَّ بِها
مَسعوداً بنَ حُسامِ الدينِ ذا الكَرَمِ
Reserve your thanks for Baniyas, for there is
Make for the towers of thankfulness, if there you stand,
Mas'ud, son of Husam al-Din, the generous.
Mas'ud ibn Husam ad-Din, generous of hand,
مِنهُ بِها كَعبَةُ الإِحسانِ طافَ بِها ال
عُفاةُ تطوافَ وَفدِ البَيتِ وَالحَرَمِ
Through him, a Kaaba of benevolence stands there, circled by
A sanctuary of kindness it is, where noble guests throng,
seekers of bounty as pilgrims circle the House and Sanctuary.
Like pilgrims circling the Kaaba, beloved and sanctified.
لاِبنِ البِشارَةِ سَعدِ الدينِ فَيضُ نَدىً
بِهِ يَمُدُّ يَداً تُغني عَنِ الدِيَمِ
Ibn al-Bishara, Sa'd al-Din, has a flood of bounty;
For Sa'd ad-Din, Ibn al-Bishara, may his glory spread,
with it he extends a hand that makes steady rains needless.
With open hand that enriches and leaves no soul unfed.
يَدٌ أَنامِلُها تُهدي الفَخارَ إِلى ال
عِنانِ وَالسَيفِ وَالقِرطاسِ وَالقَلَمِ
A hand whose fingers bestow glory upon
His fingers can make swords, reins, paper and pens obey,
the reins, the sword, the paper, and the pen.
As warrior his standards are raised where armies clash in bloody fray.
ما زالَ في الحَربِ مَعقوداً لَهُ عَلَمٌ
وَالنَصرُ يَخدِمُهُ في مَعقَدِ العَلَمِ
In war, a banner has ever been fastened for him,
Raids against the foe in multitudes he has led,
and victory serves him where the banner is fastened.
Putting many to the sword, making captives of women and babes instead,
كَم غارَةٍ في الأَعادي شَنَّها فَدَهَت
بِالقَتلِ وَالسَبيِ وَالأَطفالِ وَالحُرَمِ
How many raids he has launched against his foes, striking
If he met a lion in battle, midst the raging attack,
with slaughter and captivity, children and women alike!
The lion would turn and flee, showing him only its back.
لَو بارَزَ اللَيثَ في يَومِ الهياجِ لَوَل
لَى اللَيثُ يَمنَحُهُ أَكتافَ مُنهَزِمِ
If he dueled with a lion on the day of battle, then
A true lion in might, the sun reflects his armor's sheen,
the lion would flee, showing him a defeated foe's back.
A star gives him courage, his sword like a flame is keen.
لَيثٌ تَريكَتُهُ شَمسٌ وَلَهذَمُهُ
نَجمٌ وَصارِمُهُ نارٌ عَلى عَلَمِ
A lion: his helmet is a sun, and his spear
His coat of mail like locusts' wings all aquiver does gleam,
a star; his cutting sword, a fire upon a hilltop.
His blade like the rising star falls heavy, its edge is supreme.
وَدِرعُهُ مِثلُ أَحداقِ الجَرادِ عُيو
نُها تَرَقرَقُ ماءً غَيرَ مُنسَجِمِ
His coat of mail is like locusts' eyes; its
When I stumbled, he lifted me up from the fall I feared,
eyelets shimmer with water that never flows.
Never would he cast me down, though disaster seemed near.
وَطِرفُهُ أَعوَجِيٌّ لَو تُسابِقُهُ
ريحُ الجَنوبِ كَبت كَالظالِعِ الحَطِمِ
His steed is of A'waj's stock; were he raced by
I thank him, my gratitude flows like Zuhair did extol,
the south wind, it would stumble like a lame, broken beast.
His fame and renown in verse and song of old.
هُوَ الَّذي اِنتاشَني مِن عَثرَةٍ كَرَبَت
حاشاهُ يَصرَعُني مِن زلَّةِ القَدَمِ
He is the one who lifted me from a stumble that nearly
Ever aspiring to glory, delivering the helpless in their need,
—far be it from him!—felled me through a slip of the foot.
Rescuing from oblivion, this is his way and creed.
كَأَنَّني وَهوَ في شُكري مَواهِبَهُ
عِندي زُهَيرٌ وَقَد أَثنى عَلى هَرِمِ
As I thank him for his gifts, he and I seem
The mention of his father's name brings a smile to his face,
to me like Zuhayr when he praised Harim.
Without him, but for God, I'd be weak and abased.
مُنافِسٌ في اِكتِسابِ المَجدِ دَيدَنُهُ
فَكاكُ عانٍ وَإِنقاذٌ مِنَ العَدَمِ
A rival in the pursuit of glory, his constant practice is
Long may he live in power, honor, joy and health,
freeing captives and rescuing people from destitution.
Blessed with bounty and grace, comfort and wealth.
مِن بِشرِهِ يَتَلَقّى بِاِسمِ والِدِهِ
مَن يَعتَفيه بِثَغرٍ مِنهُ مُبتَسِمِ
In his good cheer, bearing out his father's name, he greets
The best of gifts he sends me, ten camels proud and fine,
whoever seeks his bounty with smiling lips.
Their sculpted saddles a marvel, embroidered with artful design.
لَولا أَياديهِ بَعدَ اللهِ تدرِكُني
لَكُنتُ مُستَضعَفاً لَحماً عَلَى وَضَمِ
Had his favors not reached me, after God's aid,
I would have been defenseless flesh upon a butcher's board.
فَعاشَ ما شاءَ في عِزٍّ وَمَقدِرَةٍ
وَغِبطَةٍ وَسُرورٍ دائِمِ النِّعَمِ
So may he live as long as he wishes in honor and power,
in happiness and joy, with enduring blessings.
وافانِيَ البِرُّ وَهوَ البُرُّ يَحمِلُهُ
عَشرٌ مِنَ الإِبِلِ الوَخّادَةِ الرُسُمِ
Goodness reached me—and it was wheat, carried by
ten long-striding, swift-trotting camels.
Sol 6.1