لا تَنكِحَن بَعدي فَتى نَمِرِيَّةً
مُزَمَّلَةً مِن بَعلِها لِبِعادِ
Young man, never marry a Namiri woman after me,
Do not marry, after me, a tigress of a wife
swathed in estrangement from her husband,
All wrapped up against her mate’s affections,
وَبَيضاءَ زَعراءَ المَفارِقِ شَجنَةً
مُوَلَّعَةً في خُضرَةٍ وَسَوادِ
and fair-skinned, scant-haired at the partings, a tangled bough,
A woman pale and passionate when parted,
mottled in green and black.
Yet ardent in the verdure and the night.
لَها بَشَرٌ شَثنٌ كَأَنَّ مَضَمَّهُ
إِذا عانَقَت بَعلاً مَضَمُّ قَتادِ
Her skin is coarse, as though clasping it,
Her kisses leave upon her chosen’s mouth
when she embraces a husband, were clasping a thornbush.
A brand as though he’d kissed hot copper rods.
قَرَنتُ بِنَفسي الشُؤمَ في وِردِ حَوضِها
فَجُرِّعتُهُ مِلحاً بِماءِ رَمادِ
I yoked ill fortune to myself when I came to drink at her pool,
I've linked my soul with misfortune by the lip
so I was made to gulp it down, salty, with ash-water.
Of her sweet spring, and drunk down bitterness.
وَما زِلتُ حَتّى فَرَّقَ اللَهُ بَينَنا
لَهُ الحَمدُ مِنها في أَذىً وَجِهادِ
And until God parted us, I never ceased—
Nor did I rest until God parted us -
praise be to Him—to suffer and struggle at her hands.
Praise be to Him for that, despite her blows!
تُجَدِّدُ لي ذِكرى عَذابِ جَهَنَّمٍ
ثَلاثاً تُمَسّيني بِها وَتُغادي
She renews for me the memory of Hell’s torment,
Thrice nightly she renews the hellish torment,
three times over, greeting me with it at evening and visiting at dawn.
At dusk assailing me, at dawn away.
Sol 6.1