وَمُشْبِلَةٍ شَمْطاءَ تَبْكي مِنَ النَّوَى

وَمُشْبِلَةٍ شَمْطاءَ تَبْكي مِنَ النَّوَى

وقَد غَيَّبَتْ عَنْ غَابِها أَسَداً وَرْدا

وقَد غَيَّبَتْ عَنْ غَابِها أَسَداً وَرْدا

And a gray-haired lioness with cubs weeps from separation,

A dark-skinned beauty weeps from yearning,

And she has sent a tawny lion away from her thicket.

And a lion has vanished from its lair.

وَتَحْتَ حَبابِ الدَّمْعِ عَيْنٌ رَويَّةٌ

وَتَحْتَ حَبابِ الدَّمْعِ عَيْنٌ رَويَّةٌ

مِنَ الدَّمِ وَالأحشاءُ مُضْمِرَةٌ وَجْدا

مِنَ الدَّمِ وَالأحشاءُ مُضْمِرَةٌ وَجْدا

And beneath the tear-bubbles is an eye saturated

Beneath eyelids flowing with tears

With blood, while her entrails harbor yearning.

Is a watery eye, while entrails writhe with passion.

إِذا طَرَق الرَّكْبُ العِراقيُّ أرْضَها

إِذا طَرَق الرَّكْبُ العِراقيُّ أرْضَها

بِحَيْثُ تُظِلُّ السُّمْرُ مُقْرَبَةً جُرْدا

بِحَيْثُ تُظِلُّ السُّمْرُ مُقْرَبَةً جُرْدا

When the Iraqi caravan came by night to her land,

When the Iraqi caravan enters her land

Where brown lances shade prized, sleek-coated steeds,

Where the black night shadows fall thick,

وَيَحمي ذِمارَ الجارِ كلُّ ابْنِ حُرَّةٍ

وَيَحمي ذِمارَ الجارِ كلُّ ابْنِ حُرَّةٍ

يَكادُ مِنَ الإكرامِ يُوْطِئُهُ خَدَّا

يَكادُ مِنَ الإكرامِ يُوْطِئُهُ خَدَّا

And every son of a free woman protects his neighbor's honor,

And protects the neighbour from harm, each noble youth

Almost letting him tread on his cheek, out of hospitality,

Is so generous he almost kisses the ground.

تَولّتْ بِقَلْبٍ يَسْتَطيرُ شَرارُهُ

تَولّتْ بِقَلْبٍ يَسْتَطيرُ شَرارُهُ

إِذا قَدَحَتْ أَيْدي الهُمومِ بِهِ زَنْدا

إِذا قَدَحَتْ أَيْدي الهُمومِ بِهِ زَنْدا

She turned away with a heart whose sparks flew,

She turns away with a heart that sparks wildly

Whenever sorrow's hands struck a fire-stick against it.

When the hands of sorrow strike its flint.

وَقَالتْ نِساءُ الحَيِّ أَيْنَ ابْنُ أُخْتِنا

وَقَالتْ نِساءُ الحَيِّ أَيْنَ ابْنُ أُخْتِنا

أَلا أَخْبِرونَا عَنْهُ حُيِّيتُمُ وَفْدا

أَلا أَخْبِرونَا عَنْهُ حُيِّيتُمُ وَفْدا

And the women of the tribe said: Where is our sister's son?

The women of the tribe say, “Where is the son of our sister?

Pray, tell us of him—welcome, you visiting company!

Tell us of him, you have our lives!”

رَعاهُ ضَمانُ اللهِ هَلْ في بِلادِكمْ

رَعاهُ ضَمانُ اللهِ هَلْ في بِلادِكمْ

أَخْو كَرَمِ يَرْعَى لِذي حَسَبٍ عَهْدا

أَخْو كَرَمِ يَرْعَى لِذي حَسَبٍ عَهْدا

May God's protection guard him! Is there in your lands

“May God protect him! Is there in your country

A generous man who keeps a pledge to one of noble lineage?

A brother of generosity who keeps faith with the noble?”

فَإِنَّ الّذي خَلَّفْتُموهُ بِأَرْضِكُمْ

فَإِنَّ الّذي خَلَّفْتُموهُ بِأَرْضِكُمْ

فَتىً مَنْ رَأَى آباءهُ ذَكَرَ المَجْدا

فَتىً مَنْ رَأَى آباءهُ ذَكَرَ المَجْدا

For the one you left behind in your land

“The one you left behind in your land

Is a youth—whoever saw his forefathers recalled glory.

Is a young man whose fathers were famed for glory.

أَبَغْداذُ كَمْ تُنْسيهِ نَجْداً وَأَهْلَهُ

أَبَغْداذُ كَمْ تُنْسيهِ نَجْداً وَأَهْلَهُ

أَلا خَابَ من يَشْري بِبغْدادِكُمْ نَجْدا

أَلا خَابَ من يَشْري بِبغْدادِكُمْ نَجْدا

O Baghdad, how often you make him forget Najd and its people!

“Oh Baghdad, how you make him forget Najd and his family!

Surely he has failed who trades Najd for your Baghdad!

Wretched is he who would buy your Baghdad with his Najd.”

فَدَتْهُنَّ نَفْسي لو سَمِعْنَ بِما أرى

فَدَتْهُنَّ نَفْسي لو سَمِعْنَ بِما أرى

رَمَى كُلُّ جِيدٍ مِنْ تنَهُّدِها عِقْدا

رَمَى كُلُّ جِيدٍ مِنْ تنَهُّدِها عِقْدا

May my soul ransom them! If they heard of what I see,

I’d ransom them with my soul, if they but heard my condition

Each woman's neck would fling off its necklace with her sighs.

Each bracelet of theirs would shed its pearls in sighing.

أَلَسْتُ مُقيماً في أُناسٍ وِدادُهُمْ

أَلَسْتُ مُقيماً في أُناسٍ وِدادُهُمْ

يُشابُ بِغِلٍّ حينَ أَمْحَضُهُمْ وُدّا

يُشابُ بِغِلٍّ حينَ أَمْحَضُهُمْ وُدّا

Am I not living among people whose affection

Do I not live among a people whose love for me

Is mixed with rancor, while I offer them pure love?

Turns to rancour when I display affection?

وَيَثْلِمُ عِرْضِي عِنْدَهُمْ كلُّ كاشِحٍ

وَيَثْلِمُ عِرْضِي عِنْدَهُمْ كلُّ كاشِحٍ

وَأَدْفَعُ عَنْ أَعْراضِهِمُ أَلسُناً لُدّا

وَأَدْفَعُ عَنْ أَعْراضِهِمُ أَلسُناً لُدّا

And every ill-wisher mars my honor in their presence,

Every slanderer wounds my honour among them.

While I shield their honor from fiercely hostile tongues.

I parry their sharp tongues and show them patience,

وَأَنْصُرُهُمْ وَالسَّيْفُ يَدْمَى غِرارُهُ

وَأَنْصُرُهُمْ وَالسَّيْفُ يَدْمَى غِرارُهُ

وَأُخْذَلُ فِيهمْ وَهْوَ يَعْتَنِقُ الغِمْدا

وَأُخْذَلُ فِيهمْ وَهْوَ يَعْتَنِقُ الغِمْدا

And I aid them while the sword's edge is bloodied,

I defend them when swords run red with blood,

Yet I am forsaken among them while it embraces the scabbard.

Yet I am abandoned among them, while sheathed in the scabbard.

وَهُمْ في غَواشِي نَشْوَةٍ مِنْ ثَرائِهِمْ

وَهُمْ في غَواشِي نَشْوَةٍ مِنْ ثَرائِهِمْ

وَلا خَيْرَ في مَالٍ إِذا لَمْ يُفِدْ حَمْدا

وَلا خَيْرَ في مَالٍ إِذا لَمْ يُفِدْ حَمْدا

And they are cloaked in the intoxication of their wealth,

Drunk with the rapture of their wealth,

And there is no good in wealth if it earns no praise.

Yet wealth is useless unless it earns praise.

فَمَنْ لي على غَيِّ التَّمَنِّي بَصاحِبٍ

فَمَنْ لي على غَيِّ التَّمَنِّي بَصاحِبٍ

سَليمِ نَواحِي الصَّدْرِ لا يَحْمِلُ الحِقْدا

سَليمِ نَواحِي الصَّدْرِ لا يَحْمِلُ الحِقْدا

So who, despite the folly of wishing, will find me a companion

So who will join me in my lonely dreaming

Pure in every recess of his breast, harboring no rancor,

With a heart secure from malice?

يَعُدُّ الغِنَى فَضْفاضَةً ذاتَ رَفْرَفٍ

يَعُدُّ الغِنَى فَضْفاضَةً ذاتَ رَفْرَفٍ

وَصَمْصامَةً عَضْباً وَذا خُصَلٍ نَهْدا

وَصَمْصامَةً عَضْباً وَذا خُصَلٍ نَهْدا

Who counts as wealth a roomy coat of mail with a hanging skirt,

Who counts riches as a fluttering vanity,

And a keen sword, and a sturdy steed with locks of mane?

A bramble full of thorns and writhing snakes?

وَلَوْلا افْتِراشُ الذِّئْبِ لِلْغَدْرِ صَدْرُهُ

وَلَوْلا افْتِراشُ الذِّئْبِ لِلْغَدْرِ صَدْرُهُ

لَما كُنْتُ أَتْلَو في مطالِبَها الأُسْدا

لَما كُنْتُ أَتْلَو في مطالِبَها الأُسْدا

And were the wolf's breast not a bed for treachery,

Were it not for the wolf's treachery,

I would not follow the lions in their quests.

I'd not complain of the lion's fury!