قِف بِالدِيارِ وَصِح إِلى بَيداها
فَعَسى الدِيارُ تُجيبُ مَن ناداها
Stop at the abodes and call out to their ruins
Perhaps the dwellings will answer one who called them
دارٌ يَفوحُ المِسكُ مِن عَرَصاتِها
وَالعودُ وَالنَدُّ الذَكِيُّ جَناها
An abode where musk exudes from its patio
And fragrant wood and reeds surround it
دارٌ لِعَبلَةَ شَطَّ عَنكَ مَزارُه
وَنَأَت لَعَمري ما أَراكَ تَراها
An abode for Abu-l-ʿAlāʾ whose tomb
Became too distant for me – would that I might see it!
ما بالُ عَينِكَ لا تَمُلُّ مِنَ البُكا
رَمَدٌ بِعَينِكَ أَم جَفاكَ كَراها
Why do your eyes not tire of weeping,
Is it sleeplessness in your eyes or does hatred cause it?
يا صاحِبي قِف بِالمَطايا ساعَةً
في دارِ عَبلَةَ سائِلاً مَغناها
My friend! Stop at the abodes awhile
In the dwelling of Abu-l-ʿAlāʾ asking news of it.
أَم كَيفَ تَسأَلُ دِمنَةً عادِيَّةً
سَفَتِ الجُنوبِ دِمانَها وَثَراها
How can you ask a temporary land
Its broad southern lands and grassy knolls?
يا عَبلَ قَد هامَ الفُؤادُ بِذِكرِكُم
وَأَرى دُيوني ما يَحُلُّ قَضاها
O Ablah! My heart is consumed with memory of you
And I see my debts have no means to repay them
يا عَبلَ إِن تَبكي عَلَيَّ بِحُرقَةٍ
فَلَطالَما بَكَتِ الرِجالُ نِساها
O Ablah! If you weep for me bitterly
Men have long wept for their women
يا عَبلَ إِنّي في الكَريهَةِ ضَيغَمٌ
شَرِسٌ إِذا ما الطَعنُ شَقَّ جِباها
O Ablah! I am wretched, irascible
Fierce, when the piercing blades split open foreheads
وَدَنَت كِباشٌ مِن كِباشٍ تَصطَلي
نارَ الكَريهَةِ أَو تَخوضُ لَظاها
Rams of rams drew near, kindling
The fire of war or plunging into its inferno
وَدَنا الشُجاعُ مِنَ الشُجاعِ وَأُشرِعَت
سُمرُ الرِماحِ عَلى اِختِلافِ قَناها
The valiant approached the valiant and
The tips of spears were bared of diverse make
فَهُناكَ أَطعَنُ في الوَغى فُرسانَها
طَعناً يَشُقُّ قُلوبَها وَكُلاها
There I stab the steeds of its horsemen
A stab that splits their hearts and both ‘brother’ arms
وَسَلي الفَوارِسَ يُخبِروكِ بِهِمَّتي
وَمَواقِفي في الحَربِ حينَ أَطاها
Ask the horsemen about my resolve
And my stand in war when it is spread
وَأَزيدُها مِن نارِ حَربي شُعلَةً
وَأُثيرُها حَتّى تَدورَ رَحاها
I increase its flames with the fire of my war
And stir it until its plain whirls
وَأَكُرُّ فيهِم في لَهيبِ شُعاعِها
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ واقِدٍ بِصَلاها
I charge against them amidst the blaze of its flashes
And am the first who lights its first fire
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ ضارِبٍ بِمُهَنَّدٍ
يَفري الجَماجِمَ لا يُريدُ سِواها
I am the first striking with Indian blade
Splitting skulls that desire only them
وَأَكونُ أَوَّلَ فارِسٍ يَغشى الوَغى
فَأَقودُ أَوَّلَ فارِسٍ يَغشاها
I am the first horseman to plunge into the fray
So I lead the first horseman who plunges into it
وَالخَيلُ تَعلَمُ وَالفَوارِسُ أَنَّني
شَيخُ الحُروبِ وَكَهلُها وَفَتاها
The steeds and horsemen know that I
Am the chieftain of wars – their elder and youth
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن فارِسٍ خَلَّيتَهُ
في وَسطِ رابِيَةٍ يَعُدُّ حَصاها
O Ablah! Many horsemen have I left
In the midst of mellay counting its pebbles
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن حُرَّةٍ خَلَّيتُها
تَبكي وَتَنعى بَعلَها وَأَخاها
Many bereaved women have I left
Weeping and mourning their husbands and brothers
يا عَبلَ كَم مِن مُهرَةٍ غادَرتُها
مِن بَعدِ صاحِبِها تَجُرُّ خُطاها
Many a wife have I left
Dragging her skirts after her companion
يا عَبلَ لَو أَنّي لَقيتُ كَتيبَةً
سَبعينَ أَلفاً ما رَهِبتُ لِقاها
O Ablah! Were I to meet a battalion
Of seventy thousand I would not dread the meeting
وَأَنا المَنِيَّةُ وَاِبنُ كُلِّ مَنِيَّةٍ
وَسَوادُ جِلدي ثَوبُها وَرِداها
I am demise, and son of every demise
The blackness of my skin its garb and cloak
