أَلِلمَنزِلِ بِالحَنوِ
وَمَغنى الطَلَلِ النَضوِ
The abode of love and yearning song,
Ruins where hearts are wont to throng,
وَأَحجارٍ كَأَخلالٍ
مُقيماتٍ عَلى بَوِّ
Stones like bangles, thin, apart,
Dwelling-places of the constant heart.
تَصابَيتَ وَقَد أَرهَق
تَ عَزمَ الدينِ وَالصَحوِ
You promised and kept procrastinating,
Till age declined and vigour waning;
عَلى حينَ اِبيِضاضُ الرَأ
سِ وَاللَومِ عَلى الهَفوِ
Hair turned grey where black it lay,
But grey hair wins no path to way.
وَرَدُّ الشَيبِ بِالخَضبِ
وَما لِلشَيبِ مِن رَفوِ
To blamers we paid no heed,
صَنَعنا لِلمُلِمّاتِ
شَديداً صادِقِ العَدوِ
Kept faith, were staunch in word and deed,
Quaffing, as ‘twere milk freely given,
يُرَوّى لَبَنَ الكَرَمِ
وَلا يَطوى عَلى حَقوِ
Wine of honour, neath open heaven.
When the skin-bag at last we burst,
فَلَمّا فُلِقَ الرِدفُ
بِنَحضٍ حَسَنِ النَجوِ
In seemly wise, without hate or thirst,
We squeezed it with gentle compression,
عَصَرناهُ بِتَضمينٍ
كَعَصرِ الحَبلِ بِالصَغوِ
As the suckling is pressed in session.
Choice wine it gave us, to gladness bent.
طِمِرّاً يُؤنِسُ الفارِ
سَ مِن أَينٍ وَمِن كَبوِ
To him that pours in open tent,
It flies on steeds past control,
يَطيرُ بِالحَديداتِ
سَبوحاً مَرِحَ الخَطوِ
Their tails like pine-trees, necks like pole.
But a brimmer oft idly spilled
مِنَ الخَيلِ العِتاقِ القو
دِ يَتلوها عَلى حَذوِ
Mocks the cup-bearer, taste unfilled.
All similes it transcended,
نَواصيهِنَّ كَالسَعَفا
تِ وَالأَذنابِ كَالسَروِ
Towards me aspiring, me befriended.
Presumption had I to accost,
وَلَكِن رُبَّ مَطروحٍ
مَليحِ الدَلِّ وَالزَهوِ
What the fearful ne’er made their boast,
Leaving sleep and dream behind
خَلا عَن كُلِّ تَشبيهٍ
تَسامى نَفسُهُ نَحوي
To embrace a moon that paled light.
Sheltered there ‘neath those fingers ten,
تَجاسَرتُ عَلَيهِ رَي
ثَما يَجسُرُ ذو الشَجوِ
I reaped fruits of untrammelled ken,
While soft cheeks in graceful union
وَخَلَّفتُ عَروسَ النَو
مِ وَالأَحلامِ لِخَلوِ
Soothed me with cups of sweet communion.
A gazelle, nimble, bright of face,
فَأَدَّيتُ إِلى بَدرٍ
مَلا عَيني مِنَ الضَوِّ
Slender waist and curve of grace,
Whose pomegranates mere hands could pluck
وَبِتنا بِأَكُفِّ الخَو
فِ نَجني ثَمَرَ اللَهوِ
From the branch-tips at a tender touch.
Oh promised one, lest I intrude,
وَسَقَّتني ثَناياهُ
عُقاراً مِن فَمٍ حُلوِ
Draw gently on my heart, subdued.
Rage do not breathe at grievance borne,
غَزالٌ مُخطَفُ الكَشحِ
لَطيفُ الخَصرِ وَالحَقوِ
Power have I none, by oath forsworn.
Give willingly what you refuse,
وَقَد نَضِجَت ثِمارُ بَنا
نِ كَفَّيهِ مِنَ القُنوِ
Take gently what I do not choose.
أَلا يا أَيُّها الموعِ
دُ قَصِّر خُطوَةَ النَحوِ
وَلا تَنفُث إِلى الغَيظِ
فَما أُملَكُ بِالسَطوِ
وَأَعطيني عَلى كُرهٍ
وَخُذ مِنّي عَلى عَفوِ
