بِكُم قَلبي عَليلٌ ما يُبِلُّ
بِهِ مِنكُم غَليلٌ ما يُبَلُّ
My heart is sick with love for you, nothing consoles it,
It finds no relief from the agony you put it through,
فَطَرفي كاتِبٌ وَالطِّرسُ خَدّي
وَأَشواقي تُمِلُّ وَما تَمَلُّ
My eyes keep writing and my cheek is the paper,
My longing keeps piling up and knows no respite,
وَأَحبابي اِستَقَلّوا ما أُلاقي
مِنَ البُرَحاءِ فيهِم فَاِستَقَلّوا
My loved ones grew aloof and I cannot find,
Among the nomads, anyone receptive and friendly,
فَلَو لاقى ثَبيرٌ بَعضَ وَجدي
وَما أَسلوهُمُ مَحَقَتهُ سِلُّ
If only Thabeer found some solace for my love,
Would that slake his raging, destroying thirst?
هُمُ في القَلبِ حَلّوا حينَ ساروا
وَهُم عَقَدوا الهَوى وَالصَّبرَ حَلّوا
In my heart they took residence when they traveled on,
With them went my love and patience, all undone
وَمِن أَجفانِهِنَّ السودِ يَومَ ال
تَفَرُّقِ لِلسِيوفِ البيضِ سَلّوا
When the swords, polished white, parted
The black eyelids in the terrible, fateful fight
فَأَيُّ حَشىً هُناكَ نَجا سَليماً
وَأَيُّ دَمٍ هُنالِكَ ما أَطَلّوا
What living heart survived that slaughter sound?
What blood not shed profusely on that ground?
رَأَوا قَتلي بِبَينِهِمُ حَلالاً
وَلا وَاللَهِ قَتلي ما يَحِلُّ
They sanctioned my murder, caring not that it was wrong,
By God, shedding my blood can never be condoned!
كَفى حزَناً بِأَنَّ الوَجدَ نامٍ
بِقَلبي وَالتَجَلُّد مُضمَحِلُّ
My grief suffices that anguish lies dormant
In my heart while composure and vigor are spent,
وَما يَألوهُمُ جُهداً غَرامي
وَجُهدُ النَفسِ يَبلُغُهُ المُقِلُّ
My tormentors will not relent in their attacks
Though the soul is reached by even the feeblest cracks
أَأَستَسقي لِدارِهِمُ وَدَمعي
لَها مِن سَيلِهِ نَهلٌ وَعلُّ
Shall I pray that their abodes be rain-drenched while my tears
Can already fill a stream, tumultuous in full spate?
وَفي حبيهُمُ قَدَمي اِستَقامَت
وَآلَت لا تَزولُ وَلا تَزِلُّ
For love of them my feet walked straight
Never to stray from the destined fate
وَلَمّا أَن رَأَوا مِنّا نُفوساً
تَظَلُّ مِنَ المَآقي تَستَهِلُّ
When they saw we had become souls
Bowed under misfortunes, death our ultimate goal
سَقَوا مِن نَرجِسِ الأَحداقِ وَرداً
فَفي وَردِ الخُدودِ الدَّمعُ طَلُّ
They let us drink deep of the narcissus of their cheeks
Though tears mixed with the wine that each sip seeks
لَقَد كُنتُ العَزيزَ وَفي هَواهُمُ
ذَلَلتُ وَكُلُّ من يَهوى يَذِلُّ
To them I was noble but then was debased, humbled
For all who fall in love are fated to crumble
أَلا يا حَبَّذا أَعلامُ نَجدٍ
وَوادي الخَيفِ وَالبانُ المُظِلُّ
Hail to the flags of Nejd being hoisted, I say
And the Khaif valley and its towering palm array!
مَرابِعُ لا أَلَمَّ بِهِنَّ مَحلٌ
فَهُنَّ لِمَن كَلِفتُ بِهِ مَحَلُّ
Reserved only for those to whom I was wed
The camel litters that other brides tread
وَمَملوكٍ لَهُ في التُركِ آلٌ
يَروعُ وَعِندَهُ لَم يُرعَ إِلُّ
A prince of Turks owns steeds that wreak fear
Yet by his side no dread can appear
يُدِلُّ وَمَن يَكُن في الحُسنِ فَرداً
بِلا شَبَهٍ لَهُ لِم لا يُدِلُّ
He seduces, and for one whose beauty is unmatched
Why would one not be thoroughly snatched?
هِلالُ السَّرجِ يُطلِعُ مِنهُ شَمساً
عَلَيهِ فَرعُهُ المُسوَدُّ ظِلُّ
From his dark face shines a moon, luminance flows
While the shade his braids cast is jet black, pure darkness shows
وَمِن تَحتِ اللِّثامِ يُرى هِلالاً
بِهِ لِلَهِ إِذ يَبدو نَهِلُّ
Below his veil a new crescent moon peeks
At God’s sign, it shyly blinks
وَيُصمي قَوسُ حاجِبِهِ بِنَبلِ ال
لَواحِظِ عاشِقيهِ وَلَم يُوَلّوا
His arched eyebrows shoot arrows that pierce the hearts
Of his admirers who cannot help but be struck through by his darts
إِذا خَطَفَ القَناةَ فَذاكَ رُمحٌ
بِرُمحٍ في الكَريهَةِ يَشمَعِلُّ
When he holds fast to the slim bow, it becomes a spear
Blazing with sparks in the midst of war’s fear
وَإِن هَزَّ الحُسامَ يَكُن حُساماً
تُفَلُّ بِهِ الجُيوشُ وَلا يُفَلُّ
If he brandishes his sword it gains might
Vanquishing armies without losing the fight
يُرى في سِلمِهِ ظَبياً غَريراً
وَفي الهَيجا هُوَ البازُ المُطِلُّ
In his quilted gown, a graceful gazelle is seen
While in battle raiment a formidable hunter turns mean
فَما أَغناهُ عِندي عَن سِلاحٍ
فَفي حَملِ السِلاحِ عَلَيهِ كَلُّ
To me it matters not if he bears arms or no
For to see him carry weapons is the greatest of wows
ذَؤابَتُهُ بِها ذابَت قُلوبٌ
وَفَوقَ السَرجِ مِنها صالَ صِلُّ
His she-camels melted hearts away
The litter they bore sat high and proud in full display
يَخوصُ مِنَ المُفاضَةِ في غَديرٍ
تَسَربَلَ مِنهُ رِئبالٌ مُدِلُّ
Wading knee-deep in the watering pond
His robes get drenched in a shower, trailing along
وَلَكِنَّ الهِزَبرَ يُرى شتيماً
أَزَلَّ وَذا مَليحٌ لا أَزَلُّ
Yet I view divorce as abhorrent, refused to be lost
For one so fair would never be at fault
هُوَ الصَّنَمُ الَّذي لَولا اِتِّقائي
إِلَهي لَم أَزَل فيهِ أَضِلُّ
He is the revered one but for fear of my God
Else in heresy I would have wrongly trod
