رُبَّ رامٍ مِن بَني ثُعَلٍ

مُتلِجٍ كَفَّيهِ في قُتَرِه

Many a son of Tha'labah, his hands numbed with cold,

Sheltering them in his armpits, complains of fate,

عارِضٍ زَوراءَ مِن نَشمٍ

غَيرُ باناةٍ عَلى وَتَرِه

A quiver, with its arrows, slung across his back,

Its string not hummed by plucking, on his shoulder,

قَد أَتَتهُ الوَحشُ وارِدَةً

فَتَنَحّى النَزعُ في يَسَرِه

When there came to him wild beasts to water,

He recoiled, startled, and drew his bow with his right hand,

فَرَماها في فَرائِصِها

بِإِزاءِ الحَوضِ أَو عُقُرِه

And let fly his arrows right into their drinking-place,

Or their lair, opposite the pond,

بِرَهيشٍ مِن كِنانَتِهِ

كَتَلَظّي الجَمرِ في شَرَرِه

With feathers from his quills, that glanced off sparks,

Like fire flickering out from glowing embers.

راشَهُ مِن ريشِ ناهِضَةٍ

ثُمَّ أَمهاهُ عَلى حَجَرِه

Their feathers he chose carefully,

Then despatched them with practiced aim.

فَهوَ لا تَنمى رَمِيَّتُهُ

مالُهُ لا عُدَّ مِن نَفَرِه

Yet his shooting brought no profit,

He had no tribe to back his valor.

مُطعِمٌ لِلصَيدِ لَيسَ لَهُ

غَيرُها كَسبٌ عَلى كِبَرِه

Only feeding the game, with none but himself

To earn his bread, burdened by age.

وَخَليلٍ قَد أُفارِقُهُ

ثُمَّ لا أَبكي عَلى أَثَرِه

I left behind a loved companion there,

Yet shed no tears at his departure.

وَاِبنِ عَمٍّ قَد تَرَكتُ لَهُ

صَفوَ ماءِ الحَوضِ عَن كَدَرِه

And a cousin I bequeathed pure water

From the pond's depth, undisturbed.

وَحَديثُ الرَكبِ يَومَ هَنا

وَحَديثٌ ما عَلى قِصَرِه

Converse with the caravan that day,

Converse that left no trace.

وَبنُ عَمِّ قَدْ فُجِعْتُ بِهِ

مِثْلِ ضَوْءِ البَدْرِ في غُرَرِهْ

And for a cousin there I keen

Like the moon's waning glow.