غدا جيران أهلك ظاعنينا — Umaiya Ibn Abi Salt

غَدا جِيرانُ أَهلِكَ ظاعِنينا

لِدارٍ غَيرَ ذَلِكَ مُنتَوينا

Your family's neighbors set out in the morning,

bound for a dwelling other than that one.

وَشاقَكَ لِلحُدوجِ حُدوجُ سَلمى

وَقَد بَكَرَ الخَليطُ مُزايَلِنا

Salma's litters stirred your longing for the litters,

when the company set off early, leaving us.

رَمَيتَهُم بِعَينِكَ وَالمَطايا

خَواضِعٌ في الأَزِقَةِ يَعتَلينا

You cast your gaze after them, as the riding camels,

heads bowed, climbed through the lanes.

فَهَيَّجَ مِن فُؤادِكَ طُولُ شَوقٍ

فِراقُ الجِيرةِ المُتَصَدِّعينا

Then long yearning was stirred within your heart

by the parting of the neighbors, scattering apart.

أَرى الأَيامَ قَد أَحدَثنَ بَيِنا

بِسَلمى بَغتَةً وَنَوىً شَطَونا

I see the days have brought about a parting

from Salma, suddenly, and a far-off separation.

فإِن تَكُنِ النَوى شَطَّت بِسَلمى

وَكُنتُ بِقُربِها وَبِها ضَنينا

If distance has carried Salma far away,

though I clung jealously to her and her nearness,

لَقَد كُنا نُرى بِأَلَذِّ عَيشٍ

وأَفضَلِ غِبطَةٍ مُتَجاوِرينا

we were once seen enjoying the sweetest life,

and the greatest happiness, living side by side.

لَياليَ تَستَبيكَ بِمُسبكّرٍ

لَها مِنهُ الغَدائِرُ يَنثينا

On nights when she enthralled you with long, flowing hair,

from which her braids fell curling

عَلى مَتني مُنَعَّمَةٍ حَصانٍ

يَروعُ جَمالَها المُتَأَمِلِينا

over the two sides of a pampered, chaste woman's back,

whose beauty awes those who gaze.

أَفي سَلمى يُعاتِبُني أَبوها

وَإِخوَتُها وَهُم لِي ظالِمُونا

Does her father reproach me over Salma,

and her brothers, though they wrong me?

تُريكَ إِذا وَقَفَت عَلى خَلاءٍ

وَقَد أَمِنَت عُيونَ الناظِرينا

She shows you, when she stands in solitude,

safe from the eyes of onlookers,

ذِراعَي عَيطَلٍ أَدماءَ بِكرٍ

هَجانِ اللَونِ لَم تَقرَأ جَنينا

arms like the forelegs of a tall, pale, maiden she-camel,

pure white in hue, never having carried a calf.

وأَسودُ وَمدلَهِمَّ اللَونِ حَشلاً

بَدَهنِ البانِ وَالغالِي غُذينا

And black hair, deeply dark and shaggy,

nourished with ben oil and costly perfume.

فَاِنكَ قَد شُغِفتِ القَلبَ حَتّى

بَلَيتُ وَلا أَراكِ تَغَيَّرينا

For you have smitten my heart with love, until

I have wasted away, yet I do not see you change.

أَجودُ وَتَبخَلينَ إِذا التَقَينا

يَلينُ لَكِ الفُؤادُ وَتَغلَظينا

I give freely, while you withhold, whenever we meet;

my heart softens toward you, while you grow harsh.

كَأَنَّ المِسكَ تَخلِطُهُ بِفيها

وَرِيحَ قُرُنفُلٍ وَالياسَمينا

It is as though she mixes musk in her mouth,

and the fragrance of cloves and jasmine.

أَلَم تَرَ أَنَّ حَظيَ مِن سُلَيمى

أَمانِيَ قَد يَرُحنَ وَيَغتَدينا

Have you not seen that my share from Sulayma

is hopes that pass at evening and at dawn?

مُبَتَّلَةٌ يَضيقُ المِرطُ عَنها

عُشاريٌ بِأَيديَ الدارِعينا

A shapely woman whose cloak is too narrow for her,

a ten-cubit spear in the hands of armored men.

أَلا قُل لِلقبائِل إِنَّ بَكراً

وَتَغلِبَ بَعدَ حَربِهِم سِنينا

Listen! Tell the tribes that Bakr

and Taghlib, after their years of war,

أَطاعوا اللَهَ في صِلةٍ وَعَطفٍ

وأَضحَوا اِخوَةً مُتَجاوِرينا

obeyed God in kinship and compassion,

and became brothers, living side by side.

أُساةٌ شاعِبونَ لِكُلِ صَدعٍ

وَكلِ جَريرةٍ فيهِم وَفينا

Healers, mending every rift,

and every offense among them and among us.

مَتّى ما أَدعُ في بَكرٍ يُجِبَني

قَبائِلُها بِأَكثَرِ ناصِرينا

Whenever I call among Bakr, I am answered

by its tribes, with the greatest number of supporters.

وَإِن هَتَفَت بَنو بَكرٍ أَجَبنا

إِليهِم بِالصَنائِعِ مَعلِنينا

And if the sons of Bakr call out, we answer,

openly, with acts of kindness toward them.

نُجَالِدُ عَنهُمُ وَتَذودُ عَنا

كَتائِبُهُم يَرُحنَ وَيَغتَدينا

We fight in their defense, and protecting us

are their battalions, going forth at dusk and dawn.

فَلَسنا في مَوَدَتِنا اِخانا

اِلى الأَعداءِ بِالمُتَعَذِّرينا

For we do not, for loving our brother,

offer apologies to enemies.

وَلَكنّا وَإياهُمُ مَدَدنا

لِوَصلِ قَرابَةٍ حَبلاً مَتينا

But we, together with them, have stretched

a sturdy rope to bind our kinship.

هُمُ الإِخوانُ إِن غَضِبوا غَضِبنا

وَإِن نَزَلوا بِدارِ رِضىً رَضينا

They are our brothers: if they grow angry, so do we;

and if they settle in an abode of contentment, we are content.

وَبِكَراً أَنَّ في بَكرٍ فِعالاً

وأَحلاماً بِها يَتَفاضَلونا

And Bakr—indeed, in Bakr are deeds,

and sound judgments through which they excel one another.

تَميدُ الأَرضُ إِن رَكِبَت تَميمٌ

وإِن نَزَلوا سَمِعتَ لَها أنينا

The earth sways when Tamim rides out,

and when they dismount, you hear it groan.

وَكأسٍ قَد شُرِبَت بِماءِ ثَلجٍ

وأُخرى قَد شُرِبَت بِقاصِرينا

And a cup was drunk with snow-water,

and another was drunk at Qasirin.

كَأَنَّ أَكُفَهُم عَذَبٌ مُلقَّىً

وَحُمّاضٌ بأَيدي مُعلِنينا

As though their hands were scattered branch-tips,

and sorrel in the hands of men crying aloud.

فَجاؤُوا عَارِضاً بَرِداً وَحيناً

كَمِثلِ السَيلِ يَمنَعُ وَارِدينا

So they came, a hail-laden cloud and death,

like a torrent barring those who come to drink.

وَشَيبُ الرأَسِ أَهوَنُ مِن لِقاهُم

إِذا هَزّوا القَنا مُتقابِلينا

And the graying of one's head is easier than meeting them

when they brandish their spears, face to face.

كأَنّ رِماحَهُم سَيلٌ مُطِلٌّ

وأَمساكٌ بَأَيدي مُورِدينا

Their spears are like a looming torrent,

and hides in the hands of men leading to water.

فَلَمّا لَم تَدع قَوساً وَنبلاً

مَشَينا النِصفَ ثُم مَشَوا إِلينا

Then, when no bow or arrows were left,

we advanced halfway, and then they advanced toward us.

فَذادُونا بِبيضٍ مُرهَفاتٍ

وَذُدناهُم بِها حَتّى اِستَقَينا

They drove us back with bright, sharpened swords,

and we drove them back with such blades until we drew water.

وأُنزِلنا البِيوتَ بِذي طِلالٍ

إِلى النَسَماتِ نَبغي مُوعِدينا

And we were lodged in tents at Dhu Tilal,

toward the living folk, seeking those who threaten us.