فما لكما من حادِيَيْنِ رُمِيتُما

بِحُمّى وطاعونٍ أَلا تَقِفانِ

What ails you two, struck down

By fever and plague, do you not stop?

فما لكما من حادِيَيْنِ كُسِيتُما

سرابيلَ مُغْلاةً من القَطِرانِ

What ails you two, clothed

In tarred gowns dripping wet?

فَوَيْلي على عفراءَ وَيْلٌ كأَنَّهُ

على النَّحْرِ والأحشاء حَدُّ سِنانِ

Woe is me for Afra’a, woe like

A blade cutting my throat and guts!

أَلا حَبَّذا مِنْ حُبِّ عفراءَ مُلْتقى

نَعَمْ وألا لا حيث يَلْتَقِيانِ

Would that the trystplace of Afra'a's love

Were bliss - but no, where they meet is cursed.

أَحَقّاً عِبادَ اللهِ أَنْ لستُ زائراً

عُفَيْراءَ إلاّ والوليدُ يَراني

Truly, people of God, I visit

Ufayra not unless al-Walid sees me there

كَأَنّي وإِيّاهُ على ظَهْرِ موعِدٍ

فقد كِدْتُ أَقْلي شَأْنَه وقَلاني

As though she and I by promise stand

So that I almost burnt her affair and she mine.

لَوَ أَنَّ أَشَدَّ النّاسِ وَجْداً ومِثْلَهُ

مِنَ الجِنِّ بعد الإِنْس يَلْتَقِيانِ

If the most passionate of men and his like

Of jinn and men were to meet

فَيَشْتَكِيانِ الوجْدَ ثُمَّتَ أَشْتكي

لأَضْعَفَ وَجْدي فوقَ ما يَجِدانِ

To complain of passion, then I would complain

Of a passion feebler than what they feel.

وما تَرَكَتْ عفراءُ مِنْ دَنَفٍ دوىً

بِدَوْمَةَ مَطْوِيٌّ له كَفَنانِ

Afra’ left no weeping speculum-dove

Whose throat-apple in Dumat al-Jandal has not echoed,

فقد تَرَكَتْني ما أَعي لمحدِّثٍ

حديثاً وإِنْ ناجَيْتُهُ ونَجاني

She left me not knowing what to say

To a confidant, even were I to confide and he to answer me,

وقد تَرَكَتْ عفراءُ قلبي كَأَنَّهُ

جَناحُ غُرابٍ دائمُ الخَفَقانِ

She left my heart as if it were

The wing of a raven forever fluttering.