سَتَعلَمُ يا عَمروَ بنُ عَفرا مَنِ الَّذي
يُلامُ إِذا ما الأَمرُ غَبَّت عَواقِبُه
You will know, O Amr son of Afra, who is to blame
When the consequences of the matter become apparent
نَهَيتُ اِبنَ عَفرا أَن يُعَفِّرَ أُمَّهُ
كَعَفرِ السَلا إِذ عَفَّرَتهُ ثَعالِبُه
I warned the son of Afra not to dishonor his mother
Like the dishonoring of roast meat when torn apart by its eaters
فَلَو كُنتَ ضَبِّيّاً صَفَحتُ وَلَو سَرَت
عَلى قَدَمي حَيّاتُهُ وَعَقارِبُه
Had you been a young hyena, I would have overlooked it
Had your snakes and scorpions crept up my legs
وَلَو قَطَعوا يُمنى يَدَيَّ غَفَرتُها
لَهُم وَالَّذي يُحصي السَرائِرَ كاتِبُه
Had they cut off my right hand, I would have forgiven them
By Him who records hidden secrets through His scribes
وَلَكِن دِيافِيٌّ أَبوهُ وَأُمُّهُ
بِحَورانَ يَعصِرنَ السَليطَ أَقارِبُه
But Diyafi, his father and mother
Are in Hawran, pressing slippery grape juice, his relatives
وَلَمّا رَأى الدَهنا رَمَتهُ جِبالُها
وَقالَت دِيافِيٌّ مَعَ الشَأمِ جانِبُه
And when he saw the oil, its mountains cast him away
And Diyafi said, along with Damascus, are his tribes
فَإِن تَغضَبِ الدَهنا عَلَيكَ فَما بِها
طَريقٌ لِرِبّاتٍ تُقادُ رَكايِبُه
If the oil becomes angry with you, it is not constrained
To the road of maidens led on by their riders
تُثَمِّرُ مالُ الباهِلِيَّ كَأَنَّما
تَهِرُّ عَلى المالِ الَّذي أَنتَ كاسِبُه
It makes the wealth of the wastrel flourish as though
It were pouring upon the wealth you earned
فَإِنَّ اِمرِأً يَغتابُني لَم أَطَأ لَهُ
حَريماً وَلَم تَنهاهُ عَنّي أَقارِبُه
For I never coveted the woman of a man who slanders me
Nor did his relatives prohibit me from her
كَمُحتَطِبٍ يَوماً أَساوِدَ هَضبَةٍ
أَتاهُ بِها في ظُلمَةِ اللَيلِ حاطِبُه
Like a gatherer of firewood on a dark night that brought him
To a desolate hill with the firewood he had gathered
أَحينَ اِلتَقى نابايَ وَاِبيَضَّ مِسحَلي
وَأَطرَقَ إِطراقَ الكَرى مَن أُحارِبُه
When my canines met, my sword flashed white
And I thrust with the thrusts of one who destroys his opponents
