أَعائِشُ ما لِأَهلِكِ لا أَراهُم
يُضيعونَ الهِجانَ مَعَ المُضيعِ
Aish, I see not your people losing composure
Amid the passionate cries and the discomposure
وَكَيفَ يُضيعُ صاحِبُ مُدفِئاتٍ
عَلى أَثباجِهِنَّ مِنَ الصَقيعِ
How could the keeper of warming fires
Lose it over their blazing embers in the freeze
يُبادِرنَ العِضاهَ بِمُقنَعاتٍ
نَواجِذُهُنَّ كَالحَدَإِ الوَقيعِ
They confront him with veils over their mouths
Their wrists like well-honed blades that lacerate
لَمالُ المَرءِ يُصلِحُهُ فَيُغني
مَفاقِرَهُ أَعَفُّ مِنَ القُنوعِ
A man's wealth saves him so he's self-sustained
Better than being in poverty, steeped in sorrow
يَسُدُّ بِهِ نَوائِبَ تَعتَريهِ
مِنَ الأَيّامِ كَالنَهَلِ الشُروعِ
It helps him cope with the pitfalls of days
Like rain pouring from saturated clouds
أَلا تِلكَ اِبنَةُ الأَمَوِيِّ قالَت
أَراكَ اليَومَ جِسمُكَ كَالرَجيعِ
Did not that Umayyad say, seeing you today
Your body is limp and lacking all vigor?
كَأَنَّ نَطاةَ خَيبَرَ زَوَّدَتهُ
بَكورَ الوِردِ رَيِّثَةَ القُلوعِ
As if the palms of Khaybar adorned you
With early buds, still moist with sap?
وَلَو أَنّي أَشاءُ كَنَنتُ نَفسي
إِلى لَبّاتِ هَيكَلَةٍ شَموعِ
If I wished, I could make myself
A bosom friend of the statues, glowing candles
تُلاعِبُني إِذا ما شِئتُ خَودٌ
عَلى الأَنماطِ ذاتُ حَشىً قَطيعِ
Caressing me if I want, cheeks
With chubby folds, fattened livestock
كَأَنَّ الزَعفَرانَ بِمِعصَمَيها
وَبِاللَبّاتِ نَضحُ دَمٍ نَجيعِ
As if saffron on their wrists
And ruby lips were dripping crimson liquid
وَلَكِنّي إِلى تَرِكاتِ قَومي
بَقيتُ وَغادَروني كَالخَليعِ
But I stayed with my people's remains
Abandoned by them like filth discarded
تُصيبُهُمُ وَتُخطِئُني المَنايا
وَأَخلُفُ في رُبوعٍ عَن رُبوعِ
Death finding them but missing me
As I lurk behind in every nook
أَعائِشُ هَل يُقَرِّبُ بَينَ وَصلي
وَوَصلِكِ مِرجَمٌ خاظي البَضيعِ
Do I still hope, Aish, that some union
Between you and I, is possible after such disgrace?
كَأَنَّ حِبالَهُ وَالرَحلَ مِنهُ
عَلى عِلجٍ رَعى أُنُفَ الرَبيعِ
His mount and saddle seem to be
Pastured on alfalfa, grazed in spring
وَخَرقٍ قَد جَعَلتُ بِهِ وِسادي
يَدَي وَجناءَ مُجفَرَةِ الضُلوعِ
And the rag I made my pillow
Cradling my arms and ribs
عُذافِرَةٍ كَأَنَّ بِذِفرَيَيها
كُحَيلاً بَضَّ مِن هَرِعٍ هَموعِ
A she-camel whose hoofs
Stampede as if a bellowing ox
إِذا ما أَدلَجَت وَصَفَت يَداها
لَها إِدلاجَ لَيلَةَ لا هُجوعِ
When it grows dark, her hands grope
With the groping of a sleepless night
مَروحٍ تَغتَلي بِالبيدِ حَرفٍ
تَكادُ تَطيرُ مِن رَأيِ القَطيعِ
A stirring mare twining with sorcery
Nearly takes flight from the herd’s sight
تَلوذُ ثَعالِبُ الشَرَفَين مِنها
كَما لاذَ الغَريمُ مِنَ التَبيعِ
Flanks fleeing her on both sides
As an enemy flees from selling his wares
نَماها العِزُّ في قَطَنٍ نَماها
إِلى فَرخَينِ في وَكرٍ رَفيعِ
Honor nursed her in cotton, nursed her
To fledglings in a lofty nest
كَمِشحاجٍ أَضَرَّ بِخانِفاتٍ
ذَوابِلَ مِثلَ أَخلافِ النُسوعِ
Like an ostrich who harmed with young
Dripping juices like saplings oozing wetness
كَأَنَّ سَحيلَهُ في كُلِّ فَجٍّ
تَغَرُّدُ شارِبٍ ناءٍ فَجوعِ
Her stallion in every valley croons
When rain leaves every pasture green
يَعِنُّ لَهُ بِمِذنَبِ كُلِّ وادٍ
إِذا ما الغَيثُ أَخضَلَ كُلَّ ريعِ
Like the whistling of springs from granite cliffs
Making bracelets on wrists resonate
كَقُضبِ النَبعِ مِن نُحُصٍ أَوابٍ
صَوَت مِنهُنَّ أَقراطُ الضُروعِ
She led him to drink from the valley of chaste ones
The clashing of water in an unviolated throat
وَسَقنَ لَهُ بِرَوضَةِ واقِصاتٍ
سِجالَ الماءِ في حَلَقٍ مَنيعِ
When she riled them, they struck him
Where the spear strikes the refined noble’s snout
إِذا ما اِستافَهُنَّ ضَرَبنَ مِنهُ
مَكانَ الرُمحِ مِن أَنفِ القَدوعِ
She made their resentments conspicuous
By what he had already attained without intervention
وَقَد جَعَلَت ضَغائِنُهُنَّ تَبدو
بِما قَد كانَ نالَ بِلا شَفيعِ
Sulkers wanting distance from him
While watching with expectant, observant eyes
مُدِلّاتٌ يُرِدنَ النَأيَ مِنهُ
وَهُنَّ بِعَينِ مُرتَقِبٍ تَبوعِ
Their bodies swerving from him
Like the ribs of an eager, ravenous she-camel
كَأَنَّ مُتونَهُنَّ مُوَلِّياتٍ
عِصِيُّ جَناحِ طالِبَةٍ لَموعِ
Rarely waiting when she can grab
The morsel of flesh from a lanky gazelle
قَليلاً ما تَريثُ إِذا اِستَفادَت
غَريضَ اللَحمِ مِن ضَرَمٍ جَزوعِ
Ever roaming between ravines
Dragging the head of a muscular young calf
فَما تَنفَكُّ بَينَ عُوَيرِضاتٍ
تَجُرُّ بِرَأسِ عِكرِشَةٍ زَموعِ
Chasing the master of mule deer one day
At the meadows of crowds of cattle
تُطارِدُ سيدَ صارَاتٍ وَيَوماً
عَلى خِزّانِ قاراتِ الجُموعِ
You’d see fragments of skulls among them
Like dissolving gravel, crumbling away
تَرى قِطَعاً مِنَ الأَحناشِ فيهِ
جَماجِمُهُنَّ كَالخَشلِ النَزيعِ
She shook him off in constant evasion
And he was integrated into the folds of wondrous creation
أَطارَ عَقيقَهُ عَنهُ نُسالاً
وَأُدمِجَ دَمجَ ذي شَطَنٍ بَديعِ
