لَقَد كُنتُ أَحياناً صَبوراً فَهاجَني
مَشاعِفَ بِالدَيرَينِ رُجحُ الرَوادِفِ
I used to be patient sometimes, yet passion agitated me,
With oars doubled, the heavier side of the scales inclined,
نَواعِمُ لَم يَدرينَ ما أَهلُ صِرمَةٍ
عِجافٍ وَلَم يَتبَعنَ أَحمالَ قائِفِ
Gentle ladies knew not what the people of barren, waterless desert suffer,
Nor followed the loads of fortune’s vicissitudes,
وَلَم يَدَّلِج لَيلاً بِهِنَّ مُعَزِّبٌ
شَقِيٌّ وَلَم يَسمَعنَ صَوتَ العَوازِفِ
No lovesick man wandered with them at night,
Wretched, nor did they hear the sound of musical instruments,
إِذا رُحنَ في الديباجِ وَالخُزُّ فَوقَهُ
مَعاً مِثلَ أَبكارِ الهِجانِ العَلائِفِ
When they rode in silk and brocade upon them,
Together like undefiled, high-bred mares,
إِلى مَلعَبٍ خالٍ لَهُنَّ بَلَغنَهُ
بِدَلِّ الغَواني المُكرَماتِ العَفائِفِ
To an empty playground reserved for them they came,
Instead of loved ones, honorable, virtuous ladies.
يُنازِعنَ مَكنونَ الحَديثِ كَأَنَّما
يُنازِعنَ مِسكاً بِالأَكُفِّ الدَوائِفِ
They vied in intimate discourse, as though
They vied in wafting gentle airs.
وَقُلنَ لِلَيلى حَدِّثينا فَلَم تَكَد
تَقولُ بِأَدنى صَوتِها المُتَهانِفِ
And they said to Layla , “Talk to us,” yet hardly
Did she speak in the softest of voices,
رَواعِفُ بِالجادِيِّ كُلَّ عَشِيَّةٍ
إِذا سُفنَهُ سَوفَ الهِجانِ الرَواشِفِ
Ships with the north wind every evening
When its breezes blow to striped, Yemeni ships,
بَناتُ نَعيمٍ زانَها العَيشُ وَالغِنى
يَمِلنَ إِذا ما قُمنَ مِثلَ الأَحاقِفِ
Daughters of luxury, whom life and wealth adorned,
Sway when they stand, like intertwined branches.
تَبَيَّن خَليلي هَل تَرى مِن ظَعائِنٍ
لِمَيَّةَ أَمثالِ النَخيلِ المَخارِفِ
Make clear, my friend, do you see any twisting branches
Resembling the bending stems of the date palm,
تَواضَعُ حَتّى يَأتِيَ الآلُ دونَها
مِراراً وَتَزهاها الضُحى بِالأَصالِفِ
Bowing down until the family comes to her,
As the morn decks her out in yellow robes,
إِذا عَرَضَت مَرَّت عَلى اللُجِّ جارِياً
تَخالُ بِها مَرُّ السَفينِ النَواصِفِ
When she sails by, she glides over the surface of the river,
Appearing to cleave it like ships with prows cleaving waves,
يَجورُ بِها المَلّاحُ ثُمَّ يُقيمُها
وَتَحفِزُها أَيدي الرِجالِ الجَواذِفِ
The sailor struggles to steer her straight,
And men’s hands on oars drive her on.
إِلَيكَ اِبنَ خَيرِ الناسِ حَمَّلتُ حاجَتي
عَلى ضُمَّرٍ كُلِّفنَ عَرضَ السَنائِفِ
To you, son of the best of men, I conveyed my wish,
On a howdah which careers were appointed to carry.
