أَلا أَيُّها الباكي فَدَيتُكَ باكِياً

عَلامَ وَفيما تَستَحِثُّ المَآقِيا

O you who weep, I ransom you with my own weeping,

Oh you who weep, may I be your ransom as you weep,

Why and for what do you hasten calamities?

For what reason and to what end do you urge your eyes to flow?

رُوَيدَكَ ما أَرضى لَكَ الحُزنَ خِلَّةً

وَهَيهاتَ أَن أَرضاكَ بِالحُزنِ راضِيا

Restrain yourself, grief does not please you as a boon companion,

Gently now; I do not choose sorrow as a companion for you,

And alas, I cannot please you by grieving.

And far be it that I should ever be pleased to see you content with grief.

يُعَنِّفُني مَن كُنتُ أَدعوهُ صاحِباً

فَما اِنفَكَّ حَتّى بِتُّ أَدعوهُ لاحِيا

One whom I used to call a friend rebukes me,

He whom I used to call a friend now rebukes me harshly,

He did not stop until I called him treacherous.

Ceasing not until I came to call him a censurer.

دَعَوتُ لِرَبّي أَن دَعانِيَ لائِمٌ

وَلَم أُعصِهِ أَن لا يُجيبَ دُعائِيا

I prayed to my Lord when a blamer called me,

I prayed to my Lord when a blamer summoned me,

And I did not disobey Him by not answering his call.

And I did not disobey Him such that He would leave my prayer unanswered.

لَقَد أَرخَصَ العُذّالَ عِندِيَ قَولُهُم

إِذا هَمَتِ العَينانُ أَرخَصتُ غالِيا

Their rebuke became cheap to me when

The words of the critics have cheapened them in my estimation;

My eyes intended, I made the precious things cheap.

Whenever my eyes pour forth, I hold cheap what is most precious.

أَأَمنَعُ ماءَ ما يَروي أَخا صَدىً

وَقَد كُنتُ لا أَحمي المَناهِلَ صادِيا

Shall I prevent water that quenches a brother’s thirst

Shall I withhold the water that quenches one consumed by thirst,

When I did not protect the waterholes, blocking them?

When I was never one to guard the watering holes while parched?

عَلَيَّ البُكا وَالنَوحُ ضَربَةُ لازِبٍ

وَإِنّي لَأَبكي أَنَّني لَستُ باكِيا

Weeping and wailing are like a fighter’s blows upon me,

Weeping and wailing are for me an inescapable decree,

Yet I cry for I am not a weeper.

And indeed, I weep at the very fact that I am not weeping enough.

وَكَيفَ اِرتِياحي بَعدَ هِندٍ وَبَينَنا

مَهامِهُ لا تُلقى بِها الريحُ هادِيا

How can I feel comforted after Hind

How can I find comfort after Hind, while between us lie

When between us lies a formidable desert, no wind passes through it?

Vast wastelands where even the wind finds no guide?

يَظَلُّ بِها السَرحانُ يَعوي مِنَ الطَوى

نَهاراً وَيَطوي لَيلَهُ الخَوفُ طاوِيا

In it the deer howls from the folds,

Wherein the wolf continues to howl from starvation by day,

Roaming by day, its night folded by fear.

And fear folds him into the night, gaunt and empty.

لَقَد كُنتُ أَخشى أَن يُفَرِّقَ بَينَنا

فَأَصبَحتُ أَخشى اليَومَ أَن لا تَلاقِيا

I used to fear we may be separated

I used to dread that anything would separate us,

Today I fear we may not reunite.

But today I have come to dread that we shall never meet again.

فَيا مَن لِقَلبٍ لا تَنامُ هُمومُهُ

وَيا مَن لِعَينٍ لا تَنامُ اللَيالِيا

O you whose heart’s worries do not sleep

Oh, who is there for a heart whose sorrows never sleep,

And whose nights do not sleep the nights.

And who is there for an eye that lies wakeful through the nights?

رَأَيتُ اللَيالي ما تَزالُ تَروعُني

بِأَحداثِها ما لِلَّيالي وَما لِيا

I saw the nights continuously frightening me

I have seen the nights continue to startle me

With their events, what is it to the nights and what is it to me?

With their calamities; what have the nights to do with me?

وَلَم يَبقَ عِندَ الدَهرِ خَطبٌ أَخافُهُ

فَكَيفَ اِعتِذارُ الدَهرِ إِن رُحتُ شاكِيا

No misfortunes remain with fate that I fear

Fate has no remaining disaster left for me to fear,

Then why does fate apologize if I complain?

So how shall Fate offer excuse if I depart complaining?

إِذا لَم تَكُن لِيَ آسِياً أَو مُؤاسِيا

فَلا تَكُ لَوّاماً وَذَرني وَما بِيا

If you have no remedies or consolations for me

If you cannot be a healer or a comforter to me,

Then do not blame me and leave me be.

Then do not be a blamer; leave me to my plight.

فَإِنّي رَأَيتُ اللَومَ يُذكي صَبابَتي

كَذاكَ عَهِدتُ الزِندَ بِالقَدحِ راوِيا

For I saw blame kindles my youthfulness

For I have found that censure only kindles my longing,

I knew the flints by striking produce light.

Just as I have known the flint to spark when struck.

أَلا حَبَّذا مِن سالِفِ العَيشِ ما مَضى

وَيا حَبَّذا لَو كانَ يَرجِعُ ثانِيا

Oh, excellent were the bygone days of life

Oh, how beloved is that past life which has fled,

Oh, excellent, if only it would come back again.

And how beloved if it would but return again.

زَمانٌ كَقَلبِ الطِفلِ صافٍ وَكَالمُنى

لَذيذٌ وَلَكِن كانَ كَالحِلمِ فانِيا

A time like a child’s heart, pure and pleasing,

A time as pure as a child's heart, and like one's hopes,

Sweet, but like a dream, fleeting.

Sweet to the taste, yet fleeting as a fading dream.

أَحِنُّ إِلَيهِ في العَشِيِّ وَفي الضُحى

حَنينَ غَريبٍ جائَهُ الشَوقُ داعِيا

I yearn for it at night and at dawn,

I yearn for it in the evening and the morning light,

A stranger’s yearning, brought by ardent desire.

The yearning of an exile summoned by the call of longing.

وَأَذكُرُهُ ذِكرى العَجوزِ شَبابَها

وَأَبكي لَدى ذِكراهُ أَحمَرَ قانِيا

I remember it like an old woman her youth,

I remember it as an old woman remembers her youth,

I cry at its memory, red-eyed.

And at its memory, I weep tears of deep red blood.

وَلَولا أُمورٍ في الفُؤادِ أَسُرُّها

جَعَلتُ عَلَيهِ الدَهرَ وَقفاً لِسانِيا

Were it not for matters in my heart I keep secret

Were it not for secrets I keep hidden in my heart,

I would silence fate, make it listen to my tongue.

I would have made my tongue perpetually dedicated to it.

خَليلَيَّ أَعوامُ السُرورِ دَقائِقٌ

وَأَيّامُهُ كادَت تَكونُ ثَوانِيا

My friend, the happy years are fleeting moments

My two friends, the years of joy are but minutes,

Its days were almost seconds.

And its days pass almost as quickly as seconds.

وَأَجمَلُ أَيّامِ الفَتى زَمَنُ الصِبى

وَخَيرُ الصِبا ما كانَ في الحُبِّ نامِيا

The finest days of youth are childhood days

The most beautiful of a man's days is the time of youth,

The best childhood what was nurtured in love.

And the best of youth is that which flourished in love.

رَعى اللَهُ أَيّامي الَّتي قَد أَضَعتُها

فَكُنتُ كَأَنّي قَد أَضَعتُ فُؤادِيا

May God watch over the days I wasted

May God watch over those days I let slip away,

As if I wasted my own heart.

For it was as if I had lost my very heart.

لَيالِيَ لا هِندُ تُصَدِّقُ واشِياً

وَلا هِيَ تَخشى أَن أُصَدِّقَ واشِيا

Nights Hind neither believes a slanderer

Nights when Hind would believe no slanderer,

Nor fears I would believe a slanderer.

Nor fear that I would lend an ear to one.

وَيا طالَما بِتنا وَلا ثالِثَ لَنا

سِوى الراحِ نُدنيها فَتُدني الأَمانِيا

Often we stayed awake, none with us but the gentle wind

How often we passed the night with no third beside us,

We confide in it, so it brings desires nearer.

Save the wine; we drew it near, and it drew our hopes closer.

وَدارُ حَديثُ الحُبِّ بَيني وَبَينَها

فَطَوراً مُناجاةً وَطَوراً تَشاكِيا

The abode where love occupied our talk,

The conversation of love circulated between us,

At times confiding, at others complaining.

At times intimate whispers, at others mutual complaints.

أَلَم تَرَ أَنّي قَد نَظَمتُ حَديثَها

لَآلِئَ غَنّاها الرُواةُ قَوافِيا

Do you not see that I strung her speech

Do you not see that I have strung her words together,

Into pearls singing their rhythms.

As pearls that narrators sing as rhyming verses?

تَوَلّى زَمانُ اللَهوِ كَالطَيفِ في الكَرى

فَلَستَ تَراني بَعدَهُ الدَهرَ لاهِيا

The days of play turned away like a phantom in the meadows

The time of delight has passed like a phantom in a dream,

After them you do not see me playing again.

And you shall never see me carefree again as long as I live.

سَإِمتُ لَذاذاتِ الحَياةِ جَميعَها

وَلَو رَضِيَت هِندُ سَإِمتُ شَبابِيا

I dislike all of life’s pleasures

I have grown weary of all the pleasures of life;

If Hind pleased, I would dislike my own youth.

Even if Hind were content, I have grown weary of my own youth.

سَلامٌ عَلى هِندٍ وَإِن فاتَ مِسمَعي

سَلامُ الَّتي أُهدي إِلَيها سَلامِيا

Peace upon Hind though my hearing missed it

Peace be upon Hind, even if my ears miss

The peace I send to her.

The greeting of she to whom I send my peace.

تَرى عِندَها أَنّي عَلى العَهدِ ثابِتٌ

وَإِن يَكُ هَذا البَينُ أَوهى عِظامِيا

She sees that I keep true to the pact

She knows well that I remain steadfast to our vow,

Though this separation melts my bones.

Even though this separation has wasted my frame away.

فَوَاللَهِ ما أَخشى الحِمامَ عَلى النَوى

وَلَكِنَّني أَخشى خُلودِيَ نائِيا

By God, I do not fear pigeons upon crumbs,

By God, I do not fear death in this distance,

Rather I fear my eternal isolation.

Rather, I fear living on forever while far apart.