تَحَسَّسُ عَنّي أُمُّ سَكنٍ وَأَهوَنُ الش
شَكاةِ شِفاءً ظِنَّةُ المُتَحَسِّسِ
Umm Sakan inquires about me, and the easiest
complaint to cure is the inquirer’s suspicion.
وَلَيسَت بوَكباءِ الصِدارِ إِذا مَشَت
تَوَكَّنُ مَشيَ الكَودَنِ المُتَحَبِّسِ
She is no bulky-bodiced woman who, when she walks,
plods like a crossbred horse that keeps stopping,
لَها وَلجَةٌ في كُلِّ بَيتٍ وَخَرجَةٌ
تَحَكُّكَ جَنبِ الأَجرَبِ المُتَمَرِّسِ
going into every house and coming out,
like a mangy beast rubbing and scratching its flank.
وَلَكِنَّها زَهواءُ جُمٌّ عِظامُها
كَحٌقِّيَّةِ الرَيطِ الَّتي لَم تُدَنَّسِ
But she is proud, her frame well fleshed,
like a folded bundle of fine cloth that has never been soiled.
مِنَ المُمسِكاتِ لا تُرى غَيرَ أَنَّهُ
مَتّى حانَ يَوماً زينَةُ الناسِ تَلبَسِ
She keeps to herself, unseen—except that
whenever a day for people’s finery comes, she dresses up.
Sol 6.1