أترى البارق الذي لاح ليلا — Safi Al Din Al Hilli

Do you see the lightning flash that shone by night—

passing the tribe’s camp among Layla’s springtime haunts?

And do you see the clouds, heavy from the moment they arose,

trailing their skirts across the dwelling places of Babylon?

The Iraqi lightning never flashed but that

my eye sent forth a torrent of tears.

And I remembered neighbors in its abodes—

and a gallant chief of the house of Sunbus.

He embraced us with affection whenever we were near,

and, even from afar, bestowed bounty upon us.

We brought him meager wares from what we had hoarded,

and he gave us affection’s measure in full.

How could I forget those abodes, and a flourishing home

where I was raised as a little child?

I yearn for Iraq while in the land of Har—

ran—but can the Pleiades ever reach Canopus?

O dwellings of the beloved, how blissful

and sweet our life was in your precincts!

How often, in broad morning light, we unveiled the full moon upon your horizon,

and at night beheld the sun in your sky!

We were safe from enemies once we made

men and horsemen the rampart of those abodes.

Within your shelter I would join Ka‘b’s council and find a home;

and, whenever I wished, join Sunbus and Uqayl.

I watered the camels at Nahr Isa, and at times

watered the horses at the Tigris and Dujayl.

If you reach al-Hayja, O driver of the cam—

els, and draw near its spreading trees and palms;

and see radiant moons at Mashhad al-Sham—

s among the youths of Banah and al-Athil—

turn toward it and halt there a little,

for toward that encampment I feel a longing.

Bear word to lovely Ramla, and convey it

to a company of mine in her quarter, and to dear kin.

I was hardy, yet no person among you left me

any strength, nor left my heart a single resource.

Soon after your departure, we came to loathe li—

fe—would that death had been close at hand.