بَكَيتَ وَما يُبكيكَ مِن طَلَلٍ قَفرِ
بِسَقفِ اللِوى بَينَ عَمورانَ فَالغَمرِ
You wept, though no abandoned ruins made you weep,
Between the roof of twisted branches and abundant sands.
بِمُنعَرَجِ الغُلّانِ بَينَ سَتيرَةٍ
إِلى دارِ ذاتِ الهَضبِ فَالبُرُقِ الحُمرِ
By the winding path of streams, between low hills,
To a land of plateaus and red lightning clouds.
إِلى الشِعبِ مِن أَعلى سِتارٍ فَثَرمَدٍ
فَبَلدَةِ مَبنى سِنبِسٍ لِاِبنَتي عَمروِ
To the valley from the summit of a lofty, rugged hill,
The town Siṇbīs built for my two daughters, ‘Amr.
وَما أَهلُ طَودٍ مُكفَهِرٍّ حُصونُهُ
مِنَ المَوتِ إِلّا مِثلُ مَن حَلَّ بِالصَحرِ
The people of towering Mount Mukfahirr, though its castles
Are no safer from death than those who roam the deserts.
وَما دارِعٌ إِلّا كَآخَرَ حاسِرٍ
وَما مُقتِرٌ إِلّا كَآخَرَ ذي وَفرِ
No coat of mail protects but another lies a wreck,
No hoarder of wealth but another sees his treasures fly.
تَنوطُ لَنا حُبَّ الحَياةِ نُفوسُنا
شَقاءً وَيَأتي المَوتُ مِن حَيثُ لا نَدري
Our love of life binds fast our souls,
Though we live wretched and death comes from unseen.
أَماوِيُّ إِمّا مُتُّ فَاِسعَي بِنُطفَةٍ
مِنَ الخَمرِ رَيّاً فَاِنضَحِنَّ بِها قَبري
Amayy, soon I will die, so sprinkle my grave
With a sprinkling of wine, made heady with spices.
فَلَو أَنَّ عَينَ الخَمرِ في رَأسِ شارِفٍ
مِنَ الأُسدِ وَردٍ لَاِعتَلَجنا عَلى الخَمرِ
If the eye of a wineskin were in the head of a courageous lion
We'd vie with each other for wine, though it destroy us!
وَلا آخُذُ المَولى لِسوءِ بَلائِهِ
وَإِن كانَ مَحنِيُّ الضُلوعِ عَلى غَمرِ
I do not blame the Lord for the sorrows he sends me,
Though he has sorely tested me and plunged me into gloom.
مَتى يَأتِ يَوماً وارِثي يَبتَغي الغِنى
يَجِد جُمعَ كَفٍّ غَيرِ مِلءِ وَلا صِفرِ
When will the day come that my heir will seek wealth
And find closed fists, empty, holding nothing?
يَجِد فَرَساً مِثلَ العِنانِ وَصارِماً
حُساماً إِذا ما هُزَّ لَم يَرضَ بِالهَبرِ
When he will find a steed with reins like a serpent
And a sword, that when brandished is sated only with blood?
وَأَسمَرَ خَطِّيّاً كَأَنَّ كُعوبَهُ
نَوى القَسبِ قَد أَرمى ذِراعاً عَلى العَشرِ
A slender, dusky one, whose hooves seem to paw
The ground impatiently, tossing its foreleg?
وَإِنّي لَأَستَحيِي مِنَ الأَرضِ أَن أَرى
بِها النابَ تَمشي في عَشِيّاتِها الغُبرِ
I'm ashamed before the land when I see
The hyenas pacing through it in the evenings' dust.
وَعِشتُ مَعَ الأَقوامِ بِالفَقرِ وَالغِنى
سَقاني بِكَأسَي ذاكَ كِلتَيهِما دَهري
I have lived with people in poverty and in wealth.
Those two cups of mine have quenched my life's thirst.
