إلى ملك ما أمه من محارب — Farazdaq

To a king whose mother is not of Muharib

through her father, nor did Kulayb ever intermarry with him.

But her father is of Rawaha; higher rises

Qays, through his battle-days, above those it vies with in glory.

Zuhayr and Marwan of the Hijaz—each

is her forefather; his battle-days and glorious deeds are hers.

Through them, hems are lowered after being raised

in terror sweeping by day, by his freeborn women.

And I have feared so much that, were I to see Death approaching

to take me—though Death's visitor is hated—

it would be less terrifying than al-Hajjaj,

when he lowers his eyelids yet raises his gaze.

I creep, a month's journey between us, as though

I see you, while night's armies stand massed.

I recalled what lies between me and you, after

its lowland had hurled me from Tihama's two uplands.

So I knew for certain that, if I saw you, distance had led

me only to everything I dread,

and that, if you rode the wind and then pursued me,

I would be like a thing overtaken by its allotted fate.

So I saw no course but my she-camel's advance

toward you, all ways out of my plight having failed.

And no creature that has not died of fright has known fear

like that which his secret thoughts have hidden in my heart.

I fear in al-Hajjaj the onslaught of a lion in its lair,

whose lurking lions strike at necks.