أرق العيون فنومهن غرار — Jarir

The eyes are sleepless, and their slumber is brief,

Since no visit eases longing for you.

Can you see al-Naqawayn this side of Mukhaffiq,

Or has a fire appeared to you at al-Junaynah?

Juʿadah came by night, with al-Yamamah between us,

To a caravan for whom news of her was mere conjecture.

Had you visited us, you would have seen around our saddles

Camels like bent bows, wearied by journeys.

The noble camels take after Samwah, of Shadqam,

And al-Arhabi, and their grandsire al-Nattar.

The pale camels are assailed by midday heat, as though

Tar were coating their skinfolds and the ridges behind their ears.

How can you yearn for al-Muwaqqar, now that

The hump-fat is spent, and the marrow in their bones is thin?

The pale camels are chafed by saddles on their way to you,

Until the saddleframes drain away their marrow.

Our visiting you has become a distant prospect;

So may a steady, copious rain water your land,

Drenching all the sandy flats and al-Aʿazil,

And the slope where the rocks face one another.

Has al-Waddaʾ been inhabited since we camped there,

Or Abkur al-Bakarat, or Tiʿshar?

Or does Shubruman stir ardent longing in you,

Now that inhabitants and dwellings have changed?

I recognized where the tents had stood, despite decay,

And recognized where the foals were tethered.

I fell in love with her—tame yet wild,

A white-legged doe, chaste even when talk grows tender.

You see watering places about her—an inviolate preserve—

Yet drinking is forbidden, while hearts burn with thirst.

It has troubled me—and such a thing indeed troubles me—

The scowling and avoidance of beautiful women.

I saw you when your shaft was still straight,

When neither your beard nor your cheek-whiskers had turned gray.

And time has brought gray hair and a stoop in their place;

Time is full of changes, with many phases.

Youth is gone, and they have forgotten when our days

At al-Jalhatayn and al-Ragham were short.

The debts are deferred, and a claimant still

Hopes for payment, though what they promised is a doubtful debt.

O Kaʿb, the graves have been filled with awe

By a king before whom gazes falter.

Is there a need like our need for you,

Or a neighbor like my neighbor at al-Muwaqqar,

In forbearance, nobility, and abundant bounty?

And copious streams of bounty have been milked for you.

A full moon has risen and shone, one that never sets,

The light of creation, never hidden from view.

When you took the caliphate's staff, there were revealed

To seekers your qualities and lineage.

He governed the caliphate, fulfilling its rightful duties,

And guarded what must be defended; no charge is neglected.

And Yazid—Quraysh well knows that he

Is the fullness of the seas, surging toward glory.

The roots of your bow-wood tree have good soil,

And its branch is neither gnarled nor weak.

The caliph is surely a refuge for orphans,

And want wears down the father of a household.

All the tribes of Quraysh have invoked blessings

Upon you at both festival gatherings, and so have the Ansar.

Qudaʿah approves your decrees, and submission has been given

Willingly to your judgment by Himyar and Nizar.

Qays sees you, as long as you live, as their life-giving rain,

And to the house of Khindif, your reign is glad tidings.

You have indeed raced, and none runs ahead of you,

While the rival steeds are left with stumbling and dust.

The house of al-Muhallab neglected their faith,

And transgressed as Thamud did, and perished.

Before the caliphate, O son of Dahmah, lie

Deep, engulfing seas that make the chest tighten.

Do you remember when tiny fish were your food,

And when al-Saghawah and Suhar were your land?

The women of the sons of al-Muhallab danced under compulsion,

As ostrich chicks dance, with no veil upon them.

When they came to you fettered and abased,

Souls were healed, and vengeance was exacted.