1. إِلى أَيِّ ضوءٍ مِن بُروقِ المُنى تَعشو

    وَغَيث الصَوادي سارَ منكَ بِهِ نَعشُ

    Toward which light of hope's lightning do you grope,

    when a bier has carried away from you the rain for the thirsty?

  2. أَلا عَمِيَت عَينُ الزَمانِ فَلا هُدى

    وَشلَّت يَمينُ المَجدِ مِنكَ فَلا بَطشُ

    Alas, Time's eye has gone blind: no guidance remains,

    and Glory's right hand is paralyzed at your loss, powerless to strike.

  3. يَخيّلُ لي أَنَّ الضُّحى بَعدَكَ الدُجى

    وَأَنَّ النَدى القَفرُ وَالأنسُ الوحشُ

    It seems to me that daylight after you is darkness,

    that bounty is wasteland, and companionship desolation.

  4. أَهمُّ بِنَبشي قَبركَ الطَيِّب الثَرى

    لَعَلّي أَستَشفي وَإِن حُرِّمَ النَبشُ

    I contemplate digging up your grave, whose earth is sweet,

    hoping to find healing, though exhumation is forbidden.

  5. كَأَنّي وَقَد أَودَعتكَ القَبر طائِرٌ

    كَسيرُ جَناحٍ لا فراخَ وَلا عُشُّ

    As though, having laid you in the grave, I were a bird

    with a broken wing, without fledglings or nest.

  6. مَحَلٌّ لِعَيني دَمعُها وَسُهادُها

    وَحُرمٌ عَلى جَنبي الأسرّةُ وَالفرشُ

    Tears and sleeplessness are lawful for my eye,

    but beds and bedding are forbidden to my side.

  7. أعَزّى وَصَوتي بِالنَعِيِّ أَمُدُّهُ

    كَما مَدّ بالتَحقيقِ حَمزَة أَو وَرشُ

    I am consoled while I prolong my voice in lament,

    as Hamza or Warsh prolongs a sound in precise recitation.

  8. أَراضَت بِمَثواكَ القُبورُ وَلَم يَزَل

    عَلَيها لِساجي المزنِ مِن أَجلِهِ خَفشُ

    The graves have turned to meadows through your resting-place, and still

    the quiet rainclouds shed fine rain over them for its sake.

  9. نَعَتكَ مَعي زَهرُ الشُموسِ ثَواكِلاً

    وَفي وردها طَلُّ المَدامِعِ وَالخمشُ

    The radiant suns mourned you beside me, bereaved,

    and their roses bear tear-dew and scratches.

  10. فَسودٌ مِنَ التَكحيلِ حُمرٌ مِنَ البُكا

    عَلَيكَ وَملسٌ مِن نَعيمِ الصبا حَرشُ

    Thus black with kohl, red with weeping

    for you; smooth with youth's softness, now rough.

  11. شغلنَ عَنِ الحمامِ وَالطيبِ وَالحلى

    فَما مُيِّزَت مِنهُنَّ عفرُ الفَلا الحمشُ

    They were kept from bathing, perfume, and ornaments,

    so the slim, dust-colored gazelles of the wild could not be told apart from them.

  12. وَرَدَّ يَدي عَن حرِّ وَجهي حَياؤُهُ

    فَإِن كانَ لَم يَخدِش فَفي قَلبيَ الخَدشُ

    His modesty held my hand back from my cheek;

    and if no scratch was made there, the scratch is in my heart.

  13. بِرغمِ أَبيكَ اللَيث بَزّتكَ عَن يَدٍ

    يَدٌ يَتَساوى عِندَها الشِبلُ وَالجَحشُ

    Despite your lion-father, you were snatched from his hand

    by a hand to which lion cub and donkey foal are alike.

  14. وَلَو فَهِمت مَعنى الزَمانِ بهيمَةٌ

    لَأَعرَضَ خَوفَ النَسلِ عَن شاتِنا الكَبشُ

    If a beast understood the meaning of Time,

    the ram would shun our ewe, fearing offspring.

  15. وَمن عَرَفَ الدُنيا صَحا مِن سُرورِهِ

    وَأَمسى كَما أَمسَيتُ مِن هَمِّهِ يَنشو

    Whoever knows the world sobers from his joy,

    and ends, as I have ended, drunk on his grief.

  16. فَأَيُّ شَبابٍ لا يفلُّ شَباتهُ

    وَأَيُّ حَشاً لِلحرِّ بِالحرِّ لا يَحشو

    What youth is there whose edge it does not blunt,

    and what noble man's heart does it not fill with burning heat?

  17. حَبيبي الَّذي لا صَدرهُ لي يَنطَوي

    عَلى غَيرِ ما أَرضى وَلا سرّهُ يَفشو

    My beloved, whose breast does not harbor toward me

    anything I dislike, and whose secret is never divulged.

  18. وَكُلُّ حَبيبٍ ما خَلا الوَلد الَّذي

    تَقرُّ بِهِ العَينان في حُبِّهِ غشُّ

    Every beloved, except the child who

    cools both eyes, has deceit in his love.

  19. خلقتَ كَريماً في السَناءِ وَفي السنى

    وَمتَّ صَغيراً لا فجورٌ وَلا فُحشُ

    You were created noble in eminence and radiance,

    and died young, without wickedness or obscenity.

  20. حَلَلتَ بِطوبى وَاِحتَلَلتَ جَزيرَةً

    يروّعني فيها اِبنُ رَدمير وَاِدفننشُ

    You settled in Tuba, and I settled on an island

    where Ibn Radmir and Adfanansh terrify me.

  21. أَفاعي يفاع نَحنُ بَينَ نُيوبِها

    رقاها بيوتُ المالِ لَو أمِنَ النَهشُ

    Vipers of the heights: we are between their fangs;

    their charms are treasuries—if only one were safe from their bite.

  22. وَما كُنتَ إِلّا جُنّتى وَتَميمَتي

    إِذا عَضّت الأَيّامُ أَو عَضَّتِ الرقشُ

    You were nothing but my shield and my amulet

    when the days bit, or the speckled serpents bit.

  23. فَقَد أفردَت مِنكَ المَنِيَّة وَاِشتَفَّت

    عداً طَعَنوا بِالكيدِ مِنهُم وَإِن بَشّوا

    Death has left me alone without you, and I am drained

    by foes who stabbed me with their guile, even when they smiled.

  24. وَلا حَولَ إِلّا بِالإلهِ وَقُوَّةً

    بِهِ مِن كَلامٍ طَيِّبٍ حُمل العَرشِ

    There is no might except through God, nor strength

    save through Him—goodly words by which the Throne was borne.

  25. رَضيتُ بِحُكمِ اللَهِ وَاِسمكَ وَالأَسى

    ثبوتانِ في قَلبي كَما ثَبَتَ النَقشُ

    I accepted God's judgment; your name and sorrow

    are fixed in my heart as an engraving is fixed.

  26. وَهُنتُ عَلى أَنّي فَتى الفِئَةِ الَّتي

    غَطارفَةُ الدُنيا إِلى نارِهِم تَعشو

    I have grown weak, though I am a man of that company

    whose fire the world's nobles seek.

  27. كرامٌ يَنابيعُ النَدى في أَكُفِّهِم

    إِذا غَرِقوا ظَنّوا بِأَنَّهُم رشّوا

    Noble men, the springs of bounty are in their palms;

    when they inundate, they think they have only sprinkled.

  28. تَسَلَّوا بِماءِ الكرمِ أَيّامَ عَصرِهِ

    وَعافوهُ لمّا قيلَ حَرَّمَهُ النَشُّ

    They took solace in the vine's juice in the days of its pressing,

    and shunned it when told that fermentation had made it forbidden.

  29. وَقَد تَركَبُ الخَيلَ العِتاقَ عَبيدُهُم

    وَيَرضونَ حُبّاً لِلتَواضُعِ أَن يَمشوا

    Their slaves sometimes ride thoroughbred horses,

    while they are content to walk, out of love for humility.

  30. يَرى حَسَناتي ذو الجَهالَةِ حاسِدي

    وذو العِلمَ أَرأى لَيسَ كَالنَخلِ الحَفشُ

    My ignorant envier sees my virtues;

    the learned sees more clearly: scrub is not like palm trees.

  31. مَغانيكَ يا عَبدَ الغَنِيَّ حُبَيّبي

    بِها عَطَشٌ هَل مَن حباكَ لَها طَشُّ

    Your haunts, O Abd al-Ghani, my little beloved,

    are thirsty; has He who bestowed you a light shower for them?

  32. جَعَلتُ أُداوي عِلَّتَيك تَعِلَّةً

    عَسى الدَمُ يرقا وَالتَوَرُّمَ يَنفَشُّ

    I kept treating your two ailments, sustaining hope,

    that the bleeding might stop and the swelling subside.

  33. سَأَلتُ أَطِبّاءَ المَرِيَّةِ عَنهُما

    وَقُرطُبَة حَتّى الَّذي دارهُ أَلشُ

    I asked Almeria's physicians about them both,

    and Cordoba's, even the one whose home is Elche.

  34. فَحارَت عُيونُ القَومِ فيكَ مِنَ السَنا

    كَأَنَّكَ شَمسٌ قابَلتهُم وَهُم عُمشُ

    The men's eyes were bewildered by your radiance,

    as though you were a sun facing them while they were bleary-eyed.

  35. وَفهم سُلَيمانٍ لِفَضلِ قَضائِهِ

    لَدى نَفش غَيري يَقولُ لَهُ نَفشُ

    Even Solomon's understanding, with his excellent judgment

    in the matter of night-grazing, which another calls 'nafsh',

  36. خَبا وَنَبا لَمّا أَتاهُ حمامُهُ

    فَخَرّ لقىً وَالجِنُّ عَن أَمرِهِ تَعشو

    dimmed and faltered when his death came;

    he fell lifeless, while the jinn were blind to his state.

  37. ثَكلتُ أَحبّائي فَهَل كُلُّ شامِتٍ

    عَلى ثِقَةٍ أَن لا يُغَشّى الَّذي غَشّوا

    I have lost my loved ones; is every gloater

    certain that what shrouded them will not shroud him?

  38. تَزَهّدت في الدُنيا وَتُهتُ عَلى المَلا

    فَلَو بِتُّ أطوى لَم أَقُل لَهُما عشّوا

    I renounced the world and held myself above the crowd;

    even if I spent the night hungry, I would not tell either, 'Serve supper,'

  39. بِمَوتِ الَّذي يسقي وَيُطعِمُ مالَهُ

    وَمَن شُربُه وَغلٌ وَمَطعَمُهُ وَرشُ

    for death takes him whose wealth gives him drink and food,

    and him who gatecrashes for drink and sponges for food.