أبى الحَسَن إلا أنْ تَعِزّ وَتَغْلِبا

عَقيلَةُ هذا الحيّ من سِرِّ تَغْلبا

My friend insisted on triumph and conquest

The love of this alive one is a secret of conquest

فكيفَ بِفَوْزٍ منْ رَبيبَة فازَة

مَسابِحُها بَيْن الأباطحِ وَالربى

So what about the victory of a winning beloved

Whose prayer mats are between the hilltops and open spaces

تُظَلّلها خُضْر القَنابِل والقنا

وتَكْلؤُها زُرْقُ الأسِنّة وَالظُّبى

Shaded by the green of pistachios and wild pistachios

Colored by the blue of spears and gazelles

مِن البيضِ حمْراءُ المَطارفِ والحُلى

إذا طَلَعتْ حُلّتْ لطلعَتها الحُبى

Red cheeked, with kohl lined eyes and jewelry

When she appears, those who love her melt with desire

تُصَادِر عَما في الصُّدورِ عِصابَة

همُ عَصَبوا قتْلى الصَّبابَة والصِّبا

She takes away the minds of those with intellect

They were slain by her coquetry and charm

فتاة يَفوت الوصفُ مُعْجب حُسنِها

فَلا غَرْو أن تُزْهى دَلالاً وتُعْجَبا

A girl whose beauty defies description

No wonder she is adorned with finery and admired

أُراعُ لِذِكْراها فأُرْعَدُ خيفَةً

كَما زَعْزَعَتْ غُصْناً بهَبَّتِها الصّبا

I shiver when she is recalled, trembling with awe

As the gentle breeze shook a branch

وَأبْتاعُ بِالْمَحيْا وناهيكَ صَفقَةً

مُوَفّقَةً ذاك المُحيّا المُحَجّبا

And I engaged in small talk, saying nothing much

Succeeding with that veiled beauty

ورُبّ يَدٍ بَيْضَاءَ عِندِي لِلَيْلَةٍ

تَحَمّلتُ فيها الهجْر حوْلاً مُحَسّبا

And many a white hand that night

I imagined holding, counting the separation

تَراءَت لَنا وَهْناً إِزاء خَريدَةٍ

تُسايِرُها كالْبَدْرِ قارَنَ كَوْكَبا

She appeared to us, weak before her purchases

Like the full moon next to a planet

وجَازَتْ بِنا مذْعورةً من شِعارِنا

كجَازية بالرّمْلِ تَتْبَعُ رَبْرَبا

And she passed us in panic because of our appearance

Like a frightened gazelle in the sand dunes

وما علِمَتْ أنّا قنائِصُ لَحْظِها

ورُبّ مَهاةٍ تقْنِصُ اللّيث أغْلَبا

She did not know we were admirers of her glance

And many a gazed lion can kill the mighty

فقُلتُ لِصَحبي واثِقاً بحِفاظِهم

بقُرْبِي التَصابي لا تَريمُوهُ مَرْقَبا

So I said to my friends, trusting in their secrecy

Do not watch my approaching her

وَأقْبَلْتُ أسْتَقري خُطاها مقَبِّلا

مَجَرّاً لِمَوْشِيِّ البُرودِ ومَسْحَبا

And I came closer, following her steps

Enduring the cold and pulling my cloak

وقَد جَعَلَتْ تَشتدُّ نحوَ خِبائها

لِتَخْبَأ نوراً مذْ تلألأَ ما خبَا

And she quickened her pace toward her tent

To hide a light that had begun to shine

كَما أوْمأَتْ بالكفّ أن كُفَّ وانكَفأ

فَسُمْرُ شَباب الحَيِّ ما ضِيةُ الشّبا

She gestured with her palm to stop and turn away

But the redness of youth's wine is no faded dye

فَأبْتُ وقد قَضّيتُ بعْضَ مَآربي

وإن كنتُ من نجوايَ لم أقْضِ مَأْرَبا

So I refused, although I had achieved some of my hopes

And had not yet fulfilled my purpose

إلى اللّهِ أشكو العيرَ لا بل حَداتَها

فَلوْلا هُمُ لم أمتطِ الشوْقَ مَركَبا

To God I complain of – no – her coyness

Else, I would not have embarked on this passion

ولا استَعذب القلبُ المُعذَّبُ حَتْفَه

وحسبُك تَعذيباً يَرى الحَتْف أعذَبا

Nor would my tortured heart have savored its death

And it's enough torture to see death as sweet

بَكَيْتُ عَلى تلك الحَقائبِ حِقبَةً

وحُقَّ لِعَيني أن تَسُحّ وتَسْكُبا

I wept for those departed encampments for a time

And it's right that my eyes rained and poured

نِزاعاً لِخَوْدٍ أشرِبَ القلبُ حُبّها

فَباتَ عَلى جَمْرِ الغَضا متقلّبا

For a cheek whose love my heart imbibed

And spent the night tossing on burning embers

أرُدُّ بِأرْداني سَوابِقَ عَبْرَتي

ولَو شِئْت لم يفقد بها الرّكبُ مَشربا

With my verses I heal my previous wounds

And if I wished the caravan would not lack drink

وأدْرَؤُها حُمراً كَلوْنِ خِضابِها

بِفَضْلِ رِدائي خائِفاً مُترَقّبا

And I ward off the red like the dye on her hands

With my cloak, watching cautiously

وما بِيَ إلا أن يَرى الحَيُّ موْضِعي

فَتَسْمَعَ منْ أجْلي مَلاماً ومعْتبا

And it’s not for me, save that the tribe sees my place

And for my sake, hears blame and reproach

سَلامٌ على دوْحِ السلامِ فكَمْ لنا

مَقيلاً بِها ما كانَ أَنْدَى وَأَطْيبا

Greetings to the homeland of peace - how much

We had there a resting place, the best and sweetest

جَميل كَرَيْعانِ الشّبابِ وَجَدْتُني

هنالِك أصبى من جَميلٍ وَأنْسَبا

Like the meadows of youth I found myself

In that beautiful place, pure and pleasant

وللّهِ منها بِالمُحصّب وَقْفَةً

أنافِسُ فيها ما حَييتُ المُحصّبا

By God, from her at al-Muhassab I stood

Rivalling there as long as I live al-Muhassab

عَلَوْتُ الكَثيبَ الفَرْد أرْقب صُنعها

وقَد آنَ تقويضُ القِبابِ وأَكثَبا

I climbed the lone hill watching her hands’ work

And it was time for the demolition of the domes and arches

فَراحَتْ إلَى نُعْمانَ تنْعَم بِالمُنى

وخَلّت غُرابَ البَين يَنْدُبُ غُرَّبا

She went to Nu’man enjoying the wishes

And left behind the raven of separation lamenting

وَلا حَظّ إلا نَظرَةٌ تُحْسِبُ الهَوى

وَلو أنْصَفوا ما كانَ ذاكَ مُحَسّبا

With no fortune save a glance that deems passion

And if they were fair that would not be deemed

تَعَلّلْتُ لَما جاوَز الحَيُّ يعْلَما

وثَرَّبْتُ لمّا جاوزَ الرّكبُ يَثْرِبا

I made excuses when the tribe transcended knowledge

And lingered when the caravan passed al-Yathrib

وقَد كانَ من سَمْتي العَقيقُ ومَنْ به

فَعَقّنِيَ الحادي وحاد ونَكّبا

My route was the red hill and the one heading there

So the guide caused me to deviate and turn away

خَلِيلَيَّ أمّا رَبّةُ القلْبِ فارْمُقا

بها القَلْبَ أعْشاراً يَذوبُ تَلَهُّبا

O friends, as for the lady of the heart, glance

At the heart with moments that melt inflamed

وَإِن مَزّقَتْني شُعْبَةً إثْرَ شُعْبَةٍ

فَما أقْتَفي إلا العَلاقَة مَشْعَبا

And if she tore me to pieces time after time

I will not seek anything but the connection of the torn

لَقَدْ أُحْضِرَت مَوْتِي وَما هِيَ بِالتي

تَعُدّان سَهْواً حَضْرَ مَوْت لها أبا

She summoned my death but she is not

One you count lightly, the summoning of death demeans her

فإن مِتُّ شَوْقاً أو فَنيتُ صَبَابَةً

خُذا بِدَمي ذاك البَنان المُخضَّبا

If I die of passion or perish of youth

Take with my blood the two-colored one stained