بانَت سُعادُ وَأَمسى حَبلُها اِنجَذَما
وَاِحتَلَّتِ الشَرعَ فَالأَجزاعَ مِن إِضَما
Her happiness appeared and its rope was severed,
And the branches were separated from the main trunks.
إِحدى بَلِيٍّ وَما هامَ الفُؤادُ بِها
إِلّا السَفاهَ وَإِلّا ذِكرَةً حُلُما
One of two calamities, which did not obsess my heart,
Except folly, or a reminder of patience.
لَيسَت مِنَ السودِ أَعقاباً إِذا اِنصَرَفَت
وَلا تَبيعُ بِجَنبَي نَخلَةَ البُرَما
Black heels do not remain
When she turns away, nor does she sell the palm tree beside al-Burma.
غَرّاءُ أَكمَلُ مَن يَمشي عَلى قَدَمٍ
حُسناً وَأَملَحُ مَن حاوَرتَهُ الكَلِما
A charming full moon is the best walker
And the most eloquent in speech.
قالَت أَراكَ أَخا رَحلٍ وَراحِلَةٍ
تَغشى مَتالِفَ لَن يُنظِرنَكَ الهَرَما
She said, I see you as a traveling man,
Who befriends the old, who will not wait for you.
حَيّاكِ رَبّي فَإِنّا لا يَحِلُّ لَنا
لَهوُ النِساءِ وَإِنَّ الدينَ قَد عَزَما
May God greet you, for it is not permitted for us
To indulge in women, and religion has become intent.
مُشَمِّرينَ عَلى خوصٍ مُزَمَّمَةٍ
نَرجو الإِلَهَ وَنَرجو البِرَّ وَالطُعَما
With determination upon coarse and frayed mats,
We hope for God, and for righteousness and food.
هَلّا سَأَلتِ بَني ذُبيانَ ما حَسَبي
إِذا الدُخانُ تَغَشّى الأَشمَطَ البَرِما
Why don’t you ask the people of Dhubyan when
The smoke covers al-Ashmaṭ al-Burma.
وَهَبَّتِ الريحُ مِن تِلقاءِ ذي أُرُلٍ
تُزجي مَعَ اللَيلِ مِن صُرّادِها صِرَما
The wind blew from the direction of Dhi Orul
At night, blowing bits of straw.
صُهبَ الظِلالِ أَتَينَ التينَ عَن عُرُضٍ
يُزجينَ غَيماً قَليلاً ماؤُهُ شَبِما
The shadows came to the figs after midday
Drizzling a little rain, its water brackish.
يُنبِئكِ ذو عِرضِهِم عَنّي وَعالَمُهُم
وَلَيسَ جاهِلُ شَيءٍ مِثلَ مَن عَلِما
The notable among them will inform you about me and their world,
And no one is more ignorant than one who has knowledge.
إِنّي أُتَمِّمُ أَيساري وَأَمنَحُهُم
مَثنى الأَيادي وَأَكسو الجَفنَةَ الأُدُما
I fulfill my duties and grant them
A pair of hands and clothe the eyelids with kohl.
وَأَقطَعُ الخَرقَ بِالخَرقاءِ قَد جَعَلَت
بَعدَ الكَلالِ تَشَكّى الأَينَ وَالسَأما
And I patch the tear with more patching, it began
After deprivation, complaining of misery and boredom.
كادَت تُساقِطُني رَحلي وَمِيثَرَتي
بِذي المَجازِ وَلَم تُحسِس بِهِ نَعَما
My mount and gear nearly made me fall
At Dhi al-Majaz, and it did not make me feel bounty.
مِن قَولِ حِرمِيَّةٍ قالَت وَقَد ظَعَنوا
هَل في مُخِفّيكُمُ مَن يَشتَري أَدَما
From the words of a woman who said, as they bartered,
“Is there anyone among you who would buy some leather?”
قُلتُ لَها وَهيَ تَسعى تَحتَ لَبَّتِها
لا تَحطِمَنَّكِ إِنَّ البَيعَ قَد زَرِما
I said to her as she walked briskly under her mantle,
“Do not let it break you, for the sale has declined.”
باتَت ثَلاثَ لَيالٍ ثُمَّ واحِدَةً
بِذي المَجازِ تُراعي مَنزِلاً زِيَما
She stayed three nights, then one
At Dhi al-Majaz, watching over an abode, bleak.
فَاِنشَقَّ عَنها عَمودُ الصُبحِ جافِلَةً
عَدوَ النَحوصِ تَخافُ القانِصَ اللَحِما
The pillar of dawn split open from it, violently,
The enemy of diving fears the flesh picking sea bird.
تُحيدُ عَن أَستَنٍ سودٍ أُسافِلُهُ
مَشيَ الإِماءِ الغَوادي تَحمِلُ الحُزَما
It turns away from black, low lying rocks,
The gait of slave girls carrying bundles.
أَو ذو وُشومٍ بِحَوضى باتَ مُنكَرِساً
في لَيلَةٍ مِن جُمادى أَخصَلَت دِيَما
Or someone with a scar at my basin spent the night hunched over
On a night of Jumada, having lost its tail.
باتَ بِحِقفٍ مِنَ البَقّارِ يَحفِزهُ
إِذا اِستَكَفَّ قَليلاً تُربُهُ اِنهَدَما
It spent the night in a cattle enclosure, goaded
By the cowherd when it calmed down a little, its soil collapsed.
مُوَلِّيَ الريحِ رَوقَيهِ وَجَبهَتَهُ
كَالهِبرَقِيُّ تَنَحّى يَنفُخُ الفَحَما
Turning its cheeks and neck away from the wind
Like a Hyberean, it blew into the embers.
حَتّى غَدا مِثلَ نَصلِ السَيفِ مُنصَلِتاً
يَقرو الأَماعِزَ مِن لُبنانَ وَالأَكَما
Until it became in the morning like the sharp edge of a sword,
Pecking at the goats from Labnan and al-Akma.
