أَلاَ يا نسيمَ الريحِ إنْ كنتَ عابِرا

على الثغرِ فاقْرِى الساحَليْن سلامي

O breeze of the wind, if you should pass

over the port, convey my greetings to both its shores.

فبالرملِ من شرقيِّه مَنْ بحُبِّه

سَرائرُ تَسْرى في أدق عظامي

For on the sands east of it is one to whom

my inmost secrets speak, coursing through my finest bones.

عزيزٌ على قلبي ولا سيَّما إذا

أطالتْ عليه العاذلات مَلامي

He is dear to my heart—dearest especially when

the women who reproach me prolong their blame over him.

مريض جُفونِ الطَّرْفِ من غيرِ علةٍ

فهنّ سقيماتٌ بغير سَقام

His languid eyelids seem ill, though no malady afflicts them;

they are ailing without sickness.

بفيهِ لآلٍ في عقيقٍ كأنها

أَقاحىُّ رملٍ في سُلاف مُدام

In his mouth are pearls set in carnelian, as though

desert daisies floated in the purest aged wine.

وفي خَدِّه نارٌ وماء تَألَّفا

ومن عَجبٍ ماءٌ خِلال ضِرام

In his cheek, fire and water have joined—

what a wonder: water amid a blaze!

كأن غصون البانِ في كُثُب النّقا

جُذِبْنَ على رِدْفٍ له وقَوام

As though branches of the bān tree upon dunes of pure sand

had been drawn across his shapely haunches and upright form.

وكم ليلةٍ بِتْنا وبيني وبينه

عَفافٌ يُناجِى في العناق غرامي

How many a night we passed, while between him and me

chastity whispered to my passion even in our embrace.

وقد ضَمَّنا شوقٌ كما ضم ساهِرا

ثَوَى لكَرَى جَفْنيْه عند مَنام

Longing clasped us as sleep clasps a wakeful man

when slumber settles on his eyelids at bedtime.

وقائمُ سيِفي في يَميني وجِيدُه

بيُسراى في عِقْدٍ بغير نظام

The hilt of my sword stood in my right hand, while his neck

lay in my left—a necklace left unstrung—

حِذارا علينا من غيور مُبادِرٍ

يُسابِقني بالضرب قبل قيامي

for fear that some jealous rival might rush upon us

and forestall me with a sword-blow before I could rise.

فواهاً على الإسكندرية كلما

تَنكَّد عيشي دونَها بدَوام

Ah, Alexandria! Whenever

my life away from her is ceaselessly embittered.

ديارٌ بها أحبابُ قلبي ومَنْشَئِي

وقوميَ من فتيانِ آل جُذام

A homeland holding my heart’s beloved and the place where I was raised,

and my people—the young men of the house of Judhām.

فلى من جُذام عصبةٌ جَرَوِيةٌ

صَفَتْ كزُلالٍ من مُتونِ غَمام

In Judhām I have a vigorous company,

pure as limpid water wrung from the body of a cloud.

هي الذهبُ الإبريزُ صَفَّتْ نضارةً

يدُ السَّبْكِ من عيبٍ يَشوب وذام

They are unalloyed gold, refined in brightness;

the smelter’s hand has purged them of flaw and stain.

إذا اليمنُ اعتدّتْ بأوفَى فضيلةٍ

وَجدْتُهم فيها أَمامَ أَمام

When Yemen takes pride in the fullest measure of excellence,

I find them foremost among its people.

أسودُ وَغًى ولا ترتِضى نيلَ مكسب

وإنْ جَلَّ إلا مِن قناً وحُسام

Lions in battle, they accept no gain,

however great, unless won by spear and sword.

يَبيتون خُمْصا والمَطاعمُ جَمةٌ

إذا شِيبَ أدنى ذلةٍ بطعام

They go to bed hollow-bellied though food is plentiful

if the least humiliation has been mixed into the meal.

ومالموت إلا الذلُّ في العيشِ عندهم

وما العيشُ إلا عزةٌ بحمِام

To them, death is nothing—but life in disgrace is;

and life is nothing—but honor, though bought with death.

طِوالٌ حَكَوا خَطِّيةً بأَكُفِّهم

ثِقاتٌ لدى الهَيْجا بفَرْطِ ذِمام

Tall men, like Khattiyya spears held in their hands,

reliable amid battle’s fiercest crush.

إذا شئتَ أصلَ المجدِ والفخرِ فابْغِه

وحَسْبُك من شيخٍ لهم وغُلام

If you seek the very root of glory and pride, seek it there;

one elder and one youth of theirs would suffice you.

أخَفُّ إلى الهيْجاءِ من وَفْدِ عاصفٍ

وأَثَبتُ حِلْما من هِضاب شَمام

They hasten toward battle faster than a storming wind,

yet in forbearance stand firmer than the heights of Shamām.

حَيُّيون أَنْدَى أوجُها وأَناملا

من الغيثِ وإلىَ وَدْقَة بسِجام

Modest men, more bountiful of face and fingertips

than rain, from its first drops to its streaming downpour.

يَصونون ما تحوِى المآزرُ من تُقىً

وفضلٍ وما في بُرْقعٍ ولثام

Out of piety, they guard what their own waist-wraps conceal,

and, out of virtue, whatever lies behind veil and face-covering.

إذا قيلتِ العَوْراء غَضَّوا وغودِرت

بأسماعِهم منها أَحرُّ كِلام

When an obscene word is spoken, they lower their eyes, and

their ears leave its most scorching speech unheard.

أَلاَ هلْ إلى الإسكندريةِ أَوْبَةٌ

تُبرِّد أشواقي وحَرَّ أُوامى

Ah, is there any return to Alexandria

that might cool my longing and the burning of my thirst?

كأنّى على إفراطِ شيبٍ أصابني

عليها رضيعٌ في حَديث فِطام

Despite the profusion of my gray hair, I seem

upon her breast a suckling only newly weaned.

وإني وإنْ باشرتُ أرفعَ رتبةٍ

بمدحِ ملوكٍ أُعجبتْ بكلامي

And though I attained the highest rank

through the words with which I praised kings,

لَكالطيرِ تُدْنَى في القصورِ لصوتِها

فتبكي على أَوكارِها بمَوام

I am like a bird brought into palaces for its song,

yet weeping for its nests with mournful cries.

وما الشوقُ للأوطانِ من أجلِ طِيبِها

ولا شرفٍ فيها وفضلِ مُقام

Longing for homelands does not arise from their pleasantness,

nor merely from some beauty or distinction of abode.

ولكنه في النفسِ طبعٌ لأجله

تُجادل في تفضيلها وتُحامي

Rather, it is an instinct in the soul, for whose sake

you contend for their preeminence and rise to defend them.

كذا الطفل يبغي الأُمَّ معْ سوء شخصِها

ويَشْنَا سِواها وهْي ذاتُ وَسام

Thus a child seeks its mother despite her homely face,

and spurns another woman though she is beautiful.

ومن غربةٍ يبكي الجنينُ إذا بدا

وقد كان في ضيقٍ وفرطِ ظلام

From estrangement the newborn weeps when it first appears,

though it had been in confinement and utter darkness.

ويُعذَر من يشتاق أسوأَ موطنٍ

فكيف مُقاما طيبا كمقامي

Whoever longs even for the worst homeland is excused—

what then of one whose dwelling is as pleasant as mine?

يُحب الفتى أوطانه وبها العِدا

فكيف بأحبابٍ علىَّ كِرام

A young man loves his homeland though enemies dwell there;

what then when mine holds loved ones noble in my eyes?

سكنتُ بها الدنيا فلما تركتُها

سكنتُ دَفينا في بُطونِ رِجام

There I inhabited the world; when I departed from her,

I dwelt like one buried in the bellies of stone-heaps.

عَلَى أنني فيما كَرِهتُ مُحَسَّد

وأَحْسَدُ من يبِغيه كلُّ هُمام

Yet here, in what I hate, I am an object of envy,

while I envy one whom every high-hearted man seeks to emulate.

يرى الأَرْىَ ما أعتدُّ شُرْبا ويستقِى

بما أَتوقَّى من وشيكِ سِمام

He sees honey in what I count a bitter draught, and drinks

what I guard against as swiftly approaching poison.

وبعدُ فما أوطانُنا إنْ تَحققتْ

سوى حُفَرٍ في جَنْدَلٍ ورَغام

After all, what are our homelands, if the truth is grasped,

but hollows among boulders and dust?

فما منزل الإنسانِ فيها مَقرُّه

وإن كان ذا خَيْمٍ بها وخِيام

A person’s dwelling in them is no lasting abode,

even if he owns household goods and tents there.

ولكنه رَهْنُ المنايا لمدةٍ

محرَّرةٍ معلومةٍ بإمام

Rather, he is mortgaged to death for a term

fixed and known in the ordained record.

غريبٌ وإنْ لم يَنْتزِح عن بلادِه

فقيدٌ على عز وبُعْد مَرام

He is a stranger though he never leaves his country,

a captive despite his might and far-reaching ambition.

تغرَّب في الأحشاء عن ظهر والدٍ

وغَرَّبه الميلاد بعد زحام

He entered exile in the entrails, away from his father’s loins,

and birth exiled him again after that crowded confinement.

وفي غربةِ الدنيا له أيُّ حسرةٍ

ومن بعدِها لا شكَّ غربةُ سام

In the exile of this world, what cause has he for sorrow,

when after it comes, beyond doubt, another wearying exile?

وغُربته عند الحساب أشدُّها

فأيُّ أمورٍ لا تُطاق جِسام

His estrangement at the Reckoning is the harshest of all—

what immense burdens there are that cannot be borne!

وما قَصْدُه من بعدِ هذا وهَمُّه

سِوى مكسبٍ يَحْظَى به ويُسامى

Yet after all this, his purpose and concern

are merely gain, through which he hopes to prosper and rise.

وما حَظُّه من كسْبه غيرُ قُوتِه

ويَجمع للوُرّاثِ كلَّ حَرام

Of all his earnings, his share is only his sustenance,

while he amasses every forbidden gain for his heirs.

ومن سَعْدِه ألا يكونَ فإنْ يكن

يَمُت وهْو في الأحشاء ليس بِنامي

Part of his good fortune would be never to exist; and if he must,

to die while still ungrown within the womb.

فما هو للآفات إلا دَريئةٌ

لوَخزِ رماحٍ أو لرَشْقِ سِهام

For he is nothing but a target for afflictions,

for the thrust of spears or the volley of arrows.

وغايتُه حالان إِما لجنةٍ

لها من جوارِ اللهِ خيرُ مُقام

His final end is one of two states: either a Garden,

where nearness to God is the finest abode,

وإِما إلى نارٍ فيا لك غربةٌ

وطولُ عذاب دائمٍ ولِزام

or else the Fire—what an exile that would be,

and what long, unending, inescapable torment!