أَبَى الشَّوْقُ إِلَّا أَنْ يَحِنَّ ضَمِيرُ

وَكُلُّ مَشُوقٍ بِالْحَنِينِ جَدِيرُ

Longing insisted my heart grow tender,

And all who yearn are deserving and tender.

وَهَلْ يَسْتَطِيعُ الْمَرءُ كِتْمَانَ لَوْعَةٍ

يَنِمُّ عَلَيْهَا مَدْمَعٌ وَزَفِيرُ

Can a man conceal the pain of anguish

As tears flow and sighs surrender?

خَضَعْتُ لأَحْكَامِ الْهَوَى وَلَطَالَمَا

أَبَيْتُ فَلَمْ يَحْكُمْ عَلَيَّ أَمِيرُ

I bowed to passions’ rule, though oft I rebelled,

No ruler could make me surrender.

أَفُلُّ شَبَاةَ اللَّيْثِ وَهْوَ مُنَاجِزٌ

وَأَرْهَبُ لَحْظَ الرِّئْمِ وَهْوَ غَريرُ

I bare the fangs of a lion in defiance,

My glance makes the dastard surrender.

وَيَجْزَعُ قَلْبِي لِلصُّدودِ وَإِنَّنِي

لَدَى الْبَأْسِ إِنْ طَاشَ الْكَمِيُّ صَبُورُ

My heart quakes at rebuff, yet in ordeal,

If swords clash, I stand calm and tender.

وَمَا كُلُّ مَنْ خَافَ الْعُيُونَ يَرَاعَةٌ

وَلا كُلُّ مَنْ خَاضَ الْحُتُوفَ جَسُورُ

Not all who dread eyes are faint at heart,

Nor are all who brave perils tender.

وَلَكِنْ لأَحْكَامِ الْهَوَى جَبَرِيَّةٌ

تَبُوخُ لَهَا الأَنْفَاسُ وَهْيَ تَفُورُ

Passion holds sway by immutable decree,

Breaths chafe and rage as fires tender.

وَإِنِّي عَلَى مَا كَانَ مِنْ سَرَفِ الْهَوَى

لَذُو تُدْرَأ في النَّائِباتِ مُغِيرُ

For my wanton passions I make amends

In adversity’s throes without surrender.

يُرَافِقُنِي عِنْدَ الْخُطُوبِ إِذَا عَرَتْ

جَوَادٌ وَسَيفٌ صَارمٌ وَجَفِيرُ

When troubles arise, my steed and drawn sword,

My howdah and roar defend and tender.

وَيَصْحَبُنِي يَوْمَ الْخَلاعَةِ وَالصِّبَا

نَدِيمٌ وَكَأْسٌ رَيَّةٌ وَمُدِيرُ

In sport with comrades, a boon friend,

A morning cup makes cares slender.

فَطَوْرَاً لِفُرْسَانِ الصَّبَاحِ مُطَارِدٌ

وَطَوْرَاً لإِخْوَانِ الصَّفَاءِ سَمِيرُ

At dawn I course with the horsemen,

At dusk a convivial companion tender,

وَيَا رُبَّ حَيٍّ قَدْ صَبَحْتُ بِغَارَةٍ

تَكَادُ لَهَا شُمُّ الْجِبَالِ تَمُورُ

O Lord of one whose raids

Make mountains totter and boulders tender,

وَلَيْلٍ جَمَعْتُ اللَّهْوَ فِيهِ بِغادَةٍ

لَهَا نَظْرَةٌ تُسْدِي الْهَوَى وَتُنِيرُ

And a night whose revels brought a beauty

With glances to enflame love’s tender,

عَقَلْنَا بِهِ مَا نَدَّ مِنْ كُلِّ صَبْوَةٍ

وَطِرْنَا مَعَ اللَّذَّاتِ حَيْثُ تَطِيرُ

With whom we made the most of youth’s least drop,

And where pleasures fly we tender.

وَقُلْنَا لِسَاقِينَا أُدِرْهَا فَإِنَّمَا

بَقَاءُ الْفَتَى بَعْدَ الشَّبابِ يَسِيرُ

We told the cupbearer: Keep it turning!

For after youth, life is but slender.

فَطَافَ بِهَا شَمْسِيَّةً ذَهَبِيَّةً

لَهَا عِنْدَ أَلْبَابِ الرِّجَالِ ثُؤُورُ

She circled, golden chalice sun-like,

Deep-draughted for the wise and tender.

إِذَا مَا شَرِبْنَاهَا أَقَمْنَا مَكَانَنَا

وَظَلَّتْ بِنَا الأَرْضُ الْفَضَاءُ تَدُورُ

When we drank it, though the earth spun under us,

We kept our seats not condescending to surrender.

إِلَى أَنْ أَمَاطَ اللَّيْلُ ثِنْيَ لِثَامِهِ

وَكَادَتْ أَسَارِيرُ الصَّبَاحِ تُنِيرُ

Till night lifted its veil’s hem,

And dawn’s couriers hinted light tender,

وَنَبَّهَنَا وَقْعُ النَّدَى فِي خَمِيلَةٍ

لَهَا مِنْ نُجُومِ الأُقْحُوانِ ثُغُورُ

Dewdrops pattering woke us in a howdah

Studded with stars, a heavenly wonder,

تَنَاغَتْ بِهَا الأَطْيَارُ حِينَ بَدَا لَهَا

مِنَ الْفَجْرِ خَيْطٌ كَالْحُسَامِ طَرِيرُ

At which the birds chirped when the dawn

Showed a thread like a keen blade slender.

فَهُنَّ إِلَى ضَوْءِ الصَّبَاحِ نَوَاظِرٌ

وَعَنْ سُدْفَةِ اللَّيْلِ الْمُجَنَّحِ زُورُ

Their eyes were fixed on the morning’s glow,

Having slipped night’s feathered cover tender,

خَوَارِجُ مِنْ أَيْكٍ دَوَاخِلُ غَيْرِهِ

زَهَاهُنَّ ظِلٌّ سَابِغٌ وَغَدِيرُ

Fluttering out from one nest, fluttering into another,

Draped in heavy shade and water tender,

تَوَسَّدُ هَامَاتٌ لَهُنَّ وَسَائِدَاً

مِنَ الرِّيشِ فِيهِ طائِلٌ وَشَكِيرُ

Pillowed on plumage, pennoned with feathers

Fringed but lacking tethers or surrender,

كَأَنَّ عَلَى أَعْطَافِهَا مِنْ حَبِيكِها

تَمَائِمَ لَمْ تُعْقَدْ لَهُنَّ سُيُورُ

When sunlight smiles on them, their wings

Gleam like damask and silk so tender,

إِذَا ضَاحَكَتْهَا الشَّمْسُ رَفَّتْ كَأَنَّما

عَلَى صَفْحَتَيْهَا سُنْدُسٌ وَحَرِيرُ

When I saw night retire and the vanguard

Of the cavalry of dawn advance and splinter,

فَلَمَّا رَأَيْتُ اللَّيْلَ وَلَّى وَأَقْبَلَتْ

طَلائِعُ مِنْ خَيْلِ الصَّبَاحِ تُغِيرُ

I slipped away veiled, wandering fecklessly -

Only the feckless wander free of surrender,

ذَهَبْتُ أَجُرُّ الذَّيْلَ تِيهاً وإِنَّمَا

يَتِيهُ الْفَتَى إِنْ عَفَّ وَهْوَ قَدِيرُ

My nature scorns the world, my resolve

Scorns the lion’s craggy trials tender,

وَلِي شِيمَةٌ تَأْبَى الدَّنَايَا وَعَزْمَةٌ

تَفُلُّ شَباةَ الْخَطْبِ وَهْوَ عَسِيرُ

My will unbroken from worthy deeds refrains

Only when the matter is finished and tender,

مُعَوَّدَةٌ أَلَّا تَكُفَّ عِنَانَهَا

عَنِ الْجِدِّ إِلَّا أَنْ تَتِمَّ أُمُورُ

From beyond the veil, my will has ears that hear

And eyes that see what no seeing can render,

لَهَا مِنْ وَرَاءِ الْغَيْبِ أُذْنٌ سَمِيعَةٌ

وَعَيْنٌ تَرَى ما لا يَرَاهُ بَصِيرُ

I am a man of stubborn disposition,

My spirit dares heights none dare tender.

وإِنِّي امْرُؤٌ صَعْبُ الشَّكِيمَةِ بَالِغٌ

بِنَفْسِيَ شَأْواً لَيْسَ فِيهِ نَكِيرُ

I kept the faith the great expected of me,

Mine is fidelity none can tender.

وَفَيْتُ بِمَا ظَن الْكِرَامُ فِرَاسَةً

بِأَمْرِي وَمِثْلِي بِالْوَفَاءِ جَدِيرُ

I turn not from what brings honor,

Nor quail when events Pretender.

فَمَا أَنَا عَمَّا يُكْسِبُ الْعِزَّ نَاكِبٌ

وَلا عِنْدَ وَقْعِ الْمُحْفِظَاتِ حَسِيرُ

My speech holds the reins, wisdom

A star, bright, beaming splendor.

إِذَا صُلْتُ كَفَّ الدَّهْرُ مِنْ غُلَوائِهِ

وَإِنْ قُلْتُ غَصَّتْ بِالْقُلُوبِ صُدُورُ

Had I been in ages past, Jarwal and Jareer

Would pale beside me in eloquence tender.

مَلَكْتُ مَقَالِيدَ الْكَلامِ وَحِكْمَةً

لَهَا كَوْكَبٌ فَخْمُ الضِّيَاءِ مُنِيرُ

Had I met the Nuwasiy poets none would say,

“Our neighbor's daughter you would not surrender.”

فَلَوْ كُنْتُ في عَصْرِ الْكَلامِ الَّذِي انْقَضَى

لَبَاءَ بِفَضْلِي جَرْوَلٌ وَجَرِيرُ

I lost nothing being born after them,

My excellence the worlds engender.

وَلَوْ كُنْتُ أَدْرَكْتُ النُّواسِيَّ لَمْ يَقُلْ

أَجَارَةَ بَيْتَيْنَا أَبُوكِ غَيُورُ

Sometimes the first falls behind in the race,

And the steed that lags proves swifter and tender.

وَمَا ضَرَّنِي أَنِّي تَأَخَّرْتُ عَنْهُمُ

وَفَضْلِيَ بَيْنَ الْعَالَمِينَ شَهِيرُ

When I speak, the days’ injustice is undone,

Hearts swell till they can scarce surrender.

فَيَا رُبَّمَا أَخْلَى مِنَ السَّبْقِ أَوَّلٌ

وَبَزَّ الْجِيَادَ السَّابِقَاتِ أَخِيرُ

I hold the keys to speech, wisdom

A star of brilliant splendor.