أَيا جَبَلَي نَجدٍ أَبينا سُقيتُما
مَتى زالَتِ الأَظعانُ يا جَبَلانِ
O two mountains of Najd, our father, you were watered,
When did the separation end, O two mountains?
أُناديكُما شَوقاً وَأَعلَمُ أَنَّهُ
وَإِن طالَ رَجعُ القَولِ لا تَعِيانِ
I call upon you in yearning, and I know
That though the words take long, you do not tire.
أَقولُ وَقَد مَدَّ الظَلامُ رِواقَهُ
وَأَلقى عَلى هامِ الرُبى بِجِرانِ
I say as the darkness extends its hallways
And casts upon the sand dunes heavy burdens.
نَشَدتُكُما أَن تَضُماني ساعَةً
لَعَلّي أَرى النارَ الَّتي تَرَيانِ
I implore you to embrace me an hour,
Perhaps I can see the fire that you both see.
وَأَلقى عَلى بُعدٍ مِنَ الدارِ نَفحَةً
تَذُمُّ عَلى عَيني مِنَ الهَمَلانِ
And I cast upon the distance from home a breeze
That laments in my eyes from the sands.
قِفا صاحِبَيَّ اليَومَ أَسأَلُ ساعَةُ
وَلا تُرجِعا سَمعِ بِغَيرِ بَيانِ
Stand, my two friends, today I ask an hour
And do not return my call without response.
هَلِ الرَبعُ بَعدَ الظاعِنينَ كَعَهدِهِ
وَهَل راجِعٌ فيهِ عَلَيَّ زَماني
Is the land after the two separators as it was?
And is my time returning to me in it?
وَهَل مَسَّ زاكَ الشيحَ عِرنَينُ ناشِقِ
وَهَل ذاقَ ماءً بِاللَوى شَفَتانِ
Has old age touched your flowing hair?
And have your two lips tasted the sweet water?
لَقَد غَدَرَ الأَظعانُ يَومَ سَويقَةٍ
وَيَدمى لِذِكرِ الغادِرينَ بَناني
The two separators betrayed in Suwaqah’s day,
And my soul bleeds at the memory of the traitors.
وَلا عَجَبٌ قَلبي كَما هُنَّ غادِرٌ
عَلى بَعدَ أَنَّ أَضلاعي عَلَيهِ حَواني
No wonder, my heart is a traitor to me
When after being away, my ribs still shelter it.
لَكَ اللَهُ هَل بَعدَ الصُدودِ تَعَطُّفٌ
وَهَل بَعدَ رَيعانِ البِعادِ تَداني
May God grant, after avoidance is there kindness?
And after the distance of youth is there closeness?
وَما غَرَضي أَنّي أَسومُكَ خُطَّةً
كَفاني قَليلٌ مِن رِضاكَ كَفاني
My intention is not that I chart you a course,
A little of your approval suffices me.
وَعاذِلَةٍ قُرطٌ لَأُذنِيَ عَذلُها
تَلومُ وَما لي بِالسُلُوِّ يَدانِ
And a blamer whose blame is an earring to my ear
Blames while I have no control over the matter.
أَعاذَلَتي لَو أَنَّ قَلبَكِ كانَ لي
سَلَوتُ وَلَكِن غَيرُ قَلبِكِ عاني
My blamer, if only your heart was mine,
I would be silent, but it is another's heart that pains me.
أَلا لَيتَ لي مِن ماءِ يَبرينَ شَربَةً
أَلَذَّ لِقَلبي مِن غَريضِ لِبانِ
Oh, would that I had a drink from Yabreen's water,
Sweeter to my heart than the purest nectar,
أُداوي بِها قَلباً عَلى النَأيِ لَم تَدَع
بِهِ فَتَكاتُ الشَوقِ غَيرَ حَنانِ
I would heal a heart distanced whom separation left
No mercy but yearning.
وَلَولا الجَوى لَم أَبغِ إِلّا مُدامَةً
بِطَعنِ القَنا إِبريقُها الوَدَجانِ
And were it not for passion, I would want only wineskin
Stabbed by the spout, its jug made of twined fibers.
إِذا سَكِرَ العَسالُ مِن قَطَراتِها
سَقَيتُ حُمَيّاها أَغَرُّ يَماني
When the honey intoxicates from its drops
I would quench the thirst of its protector, joyous and blessed.
وَلي أَمَلٌ لا بُدَّ أَحمِلُ عِبئَهُ
عَلى الجُردِ مِن خَيفانَةٍ وَحِصانِ
And I have a hope I must carry its burden
On the saddlecloth, from Khifaanah and steed.
وَكُلُّ رَعودِ الشَفرَتَينِ كَأَنَّهُ
سَنى البَرقِ إِمّا جَدَّ في اللَمَعانِ
And every roar of the two hoof-beaters is as though
It were lightning repeating itself in flashes.
وَأَسمَرَ هَزهازِ الكُعوبِ كَأَنَّهُ
قَرا الذِئبِ مَجبولٌ عَلى العَسَلانِ
And the hum of the gray soles is as though
It were a wolf trained on honey and treacle.
فَإِن أَنا لَم أَركَب عَظيماً فَلا مَضى
حُسامي وَلا رَوّى الطِعانَ سِناني
So if I have not ridden a great one, nor has
My sword gone forth, nor wetted its blade with blood.
