هَل مِثلُ قَلبِكَ في الأَهواءِ مَعذورُ
وَالشَيبُ بَعدَ شَبابِ المَرءِ مَقدورُ
Does my heart get a reprieve for its passions?
Graying hair after youth is destined.
قَد خَفَّ صَحبي وَأَشكوني وَأَرَّقَني
خَودٌ تُرَبِّبُها الأَبوابُ وَالدورُ
My friends have abandoned me, leaving me worried and sleepless,
A cheek frequented by doors and homes.
لَمّا رَأَيتُ بِأَن جَدّوا وَشَيَّعَني
يَومُ الصَبابَةِ وَالمَنصورُ مَنصورُ
When I saw they were in earnest and bid me farewell,
The day of youth and Mansour was Mansour.
واكَبتُهُم بِأَمونٍ جَسرَةٍ أُجُدٍ
كَأَنَّها فَدَنٌ بِالطينِ مَمدورُ
I accompanied them with a bold, daring, generous spirit,
As if it were a vessel of clay, round and plump.
وَجناءَ لا يَسأَمُ الإيضاعَ راكِبُها
إِذا السَرابُ اِكتَساهُ الحَزنُ وَالقورُ
Horses that do not tire of galloping,
When the mirage covers them in sorrow and gloom.
كَأَنَّها بَينَ جَنبَي واسِطٍ شَبَبٌ
وَبَينَ لَينَةَ طاوي الكَشحِ مَذعورُ
As if between the flanks of Wasit were a youth
And between the softness of Tayy is a frightened creature.
يا آلَ سُفيانَ ما بالي وَبالُكُمُ
أَنتُم كَثيرٌ وَفي الأَحلامِ عُصفورُ
O clan of Sufyan, what is my plight and yours?
You are many, while in dreams I am a little bird.
إِذا غَلَبتُم صَديقاً تَبطِشونَ بِهِ
كَما تَهَدَّمُ في الماءِ الجَماهيرُ
When you defeat a friend, you assault him
As a swarm demolishes the water spiders.
وَأَنتُم مَعشَرٌ في عِرقِكُم شَنَجٌ
بُزخُ الظُهورِ وَفي الأَستاهِ تَأخيرُ
You are a mob, with disgrace in your lineage,
Delayed maturity and hasty adolescence.
يا آلَ سُفيانَ إِنّي قَد شَهِدتُكُمُ
أَيامَ أُمُّكُمُ حَمراءُ مِئشيرُ
O Sufyan clan, I witnessed you
In the days of your red-skinned mother.
هَلّا نَهَيتُم أَخاكُم عَن سَفاهَتِهِ
إِذ تَشرَبونَ وَغاوي الخَمرِ مَزجورُ
Why did you not forbid your reckless brother
When you were drinking wine, intoxicated?
لَن تَسبِقوني وَلَو أَمهَلتُكُم شَرَفاً
عُقبى إِذا أَبطَأَ الفَجحُ المَحاميرُ
You will never outdo me, even if I give you a head start,
The hindmost, when the vanguard of riders is delayed, catches up.
لَقَد أَروعُ سَوامَ الحَيِّ ضاحِيَةً
بِالجُردِ يُركِضُها الشُعثُ المَغاويرُ
It terrified the living horses in the valley,
The disheveled, unkempt horses pursued them.
يَحمِلنَ كُلَّ هِجانٍ صارِمٍ ذَكَرٍ
وَتَحتَهُم شَزَّبٌ قُبٌّ مَحاضيرُ
They carry every roaring, valiant, hard-drinking warrior,
And under them are fleet, swift riding beasts.
إِلى الصُراخِ وَسِربالي مُضاعَفَةٌ
كَأَنَّها مُفرَطٌ بِالسيِّ مَمطورُ
To the war cries—my waist wrapper is doubled over
As if plastered with resin and wax.
بَيضاءُ لا تُرتَدى إِلّا لَدى فَزَعٍ
مِن نَسجِ داوُدَ فيها المِسكُ مَقتورُ
White, worn only in times of fear,
Woven by David with musk infused in its fabric.
مُنتَطِقاً بِحُسامٍ غَيرِ مُنقَضِمٍ
غَضبِ المَضارِبِ فيهِ السُمُّ مَذرورُ
Girding a sword that does not break,
The venom of its blow lethal and penetrating.
وَعامِلٍ مارِنٍ صُمٍّ مَعاقِمُهُ
فيهِ سِنانُ حَديدِ الحَدِّ مَطرورُ
And a flexible, deafening coat of mail,
With nails like iron spikes driven through it.
قَد عَلِمَ القَومُ أَنّي مِن سَراتِهُمُ
إِذا تَقَلَّصُ في البَطنِ المَذاكيرُ
The people know I am one of their horsemen
When the intestines contract into knots inside the belly.
أَوعَدتُمُ إِبِلي كَلّاً سَيَمنَعُها
بَنو غَزِيَّةَ لا ميلٌ وَلا عورُ
You threatened to deny my camels fodder—
The clan of Ghaziyya will not swerve or limp.
قَومٌ إِذا اِختَلَفَ الهَيجاءُ وَاِختَلَفَت
صُبرٌ إِذا عَرَّدَ العُزلُ العَواويرُ
A people, when the warriors and steeds marshaled,
Endurance, when the leather tent pegs pounded the ground.
كَأَنَّ وِلدانَهُم لَمّا اِختَلَطنَ بِهِم
تَحتَ العَجاجَةِ بِالأَيدي العَصافيرُ
As if their children, when mixed with them,
Were small birds beneath the small tent.
إِذا طَرَدنا كَسَونا الخَيلَ أَنضِيَةً
وَإِن طُرِدنا كَأَنّا خَلفَنا زورُ
When we raid, we clothe our horses in neck armor,
And when we are raided, it is as if we left but briefly.
تَنجو سَوابِقُها مِن ساطِعِ كَدِرٍ
كَما تَجَلَّلَتِ الوَعثَ اليَعافيرُ
Their lead mares escape the glittering sword,
As the frog escapes under the copious rains.
إِنَّ اِمرَأً باتَ عَمروٌ بَينَ صِرمَتِهِ
عَمروُ بنُ سُفيانَ ذو السَيفَينِ مَغرورُ
A man by the name of Amr slept amidst his armor—
Amr ibn Sufyan, proud wielder of two swords.
لا أَعرِفَن لِمَّةً سَوداءَ داجِيَةً
تَدعو كِلاباً وَفيها الرِمحُ مَكسورُ
I do not recognize an ominous, visibly dark banner
That summons dogs, while the spear lies broken.
