النُّجْحُ تَحْتَ خُطا المَهْرِيَّةِ النُّجُبِ

النُّجْحُ تَحْتَ خُطا المَهْرِيَّةِ النُّجُبِ

وَالعِزُّ فَوْقَ ظُبا الهِنْدِيَّةِ القُضُبِ

وَالعِزُّ فَوْقَ ظُبا الهِنْدِيَّةِ القُضُبِ

Success lies beneath the strides of noble Mahri camels,

Success lies under the lines of my poetry

And honor above the edges of keen Indian swords.

And glory above the clouds of my prose

وَالعَزْمُ يُوقِظُ داعِي الحَزْمِ نائِمهُ

وَالعَزْمُ يُوقِظُ داعِي الحَزْمِ نائِمهُ

وَهَل تَدورُ الرَّحَى إلا على القُطُبِ

وَهَل تَدورُ الرَّحَى إلا على القُطُبِ

And prudence's call awakens slumbering resolve;

Determination awakens the voice of wisdom sleeping

And does the millstone turn except upon its pivot?

Does the millstone not turn but around the pole?

فَما الثَّواءُ بِأَرْضٍ لِلْمُقيم بِها

فَما الثَّواءُ بِأَرْضٍ لِلْمُقيم بِها

إِلى الهُوَيْنى حَنينُ الوُلَّهِ السُّلُبِ

إِلى الهُوَيْنى حَنينُ الوُلَّهِ السُّلُبِ

So why remain in a land whose dweller

So what is the point of a land where one stays

Yearns for ease like distraught she-camels bereft of their calves?

If yearning for the homeland makes the seeker turn back

أَقْذَى الزَّمانُ بِها شِرْبي وَرَنَّقَهُ

أَقْذَى الزَّمانُ بِها شِرْبي وَرَنَّقَهُ

ماذا تُريدُ اللَّيالي مِنْ فَتىً غُرُبِ

ماذا تُريدُ اللَّيالي مِنْ فَتىً غُرُبِ

Time has tainted my drink there with grit and muddied it.

Time has quenched my thirst and refined it

What do the nights want from a youth far from home?

What does the night want from a stranger like me?

مَتى أُرَوِّي غَليلَ السُّمْرِ مِنْ ثُغَرٍ

مَتى أُرَوِّي غَليلَ السُّمْرِ مِنْ ثُغَرٍ

يَمِدْنَ فيهنَّ كَالأشْطانِ فِي القُلُبِ

يَمِدْنَ فيهنَّ كَالأشْطانِ فِي القُلُبِ

When shall I slake the thirst of brown spears at gaping wounds

When will I quench the thirst of wine from a mouth

Where they sway like well-ropes in wells?

That reaches into my heart like spears?

فَهُنَّ أَزْوَيْنَ إِبْلي وَالمِياهُ دَمٌ

فَهُنَّ أَزْوَيْنَ إِبْلي وَالمِياهُ دَمٌ

وَقَدْ تَوَشَّحَتِ الغُدْرانُ بِالعُشُبِ

وَقَدْ تَوَشَّحَتِ الغُدْرانُ بِالعُشُبِ

For they have kept my camels thirsty, while the waters are blood,

For they have folded my camels, and the water is blood

And the pools have girded themselves with grass.

And the valleys have been adorned with grass

أُزْهَى بِنَفْسي وَإِنْ أَصْبَحْتُ في مُضَرٍ

أُزْهَى بِنَفْسي وَإِنْ أَصْبَحْتُ في مُضَرٍ

أَلْوي على العِزِّ مِنْ بَيْتي قُوى الطنُبِ

أَلْوي على العِزِّ مِنْ بَيْتي قُوى الطنُبِ

I glory in myself, though I stand among Mudar,

I take pride in myself, though I wake in Mudar

I wind my house's tent-rope strands around honor.

I lean on honor and strength from my firm house

فَالعُودُ مِنْ حَطَبٍ لولا رَوائِحُهُ

فَالعُودُ مِنْ حَطَبٍ لولا رَوائِحُهُ

وَالنَّخْلُ تُكْرَمُ لِلأَثْمار لا العُسُبِ

وَالنَّخْلُ تُكْرَمُ لِلأَثْمار لا العُسُبِ

For aloeswood would be firewood, were it not for its fragrance,

For wood is nothing without its fragrance

And palms are prized for their fruit, not their frond-stalks.

And palm trees are valued for their fruit, not their husks

وَقَدْ جَعَلْتُ مَرادَ الطَّرَفِ غَيْر مَهاً

وَقَدْ جَعَلْتُ مَرادَ الطَّرَفِ غَيْر مَهاً

يَهْزُزْنَ في المَشْي أَغْصانَاً على كُثُبِ

يَهْزُزْنَ في المَشْي أَغْصانَاً على كُثُبِ

And I have made my gaze roam elsewhere than among oryx-does

And I have made the object of my gaze worthless

Who sway branches above dunes as they walk.

Swaying their branches as they walk on the dunes

إِنَّ العُيونَ عَنِ العَلْياءِ نابِيَةٌ

إِنَّ العُيونَ عَنِ العَلْياءِ نابِيَةٌ

وَمَسْرَحُ العَيْنِ مِنّي مَسْبَحُ الشُّهُبِ

وَمَسْرَحُ العَيْنِ مِنّي مَسْبَحُ الشُّهُبِ

Indeed, eyes recoil from exalted heights,

Eyes are aloof from the arrogant

And my eye's roaming-ground is where shooting stars swim.

And my gaze is a comet flaming through the sky

هِيَ الّتي لا تَزالُ الدَّهْرَ ناظِرَةً

هِيَ الّتي لا تَزالُ الدَّهْرَ ناظِرَةً

إِلى عُلاً وَلِسُؤَّالٍ وفي كُتُبُ

إِلى عُلاً وَلِسُؤَّالٍ وفي كُتُبُ

It is the eye that forever keeps gazing

She who still looks through time

Toward lofty aims, attentive to petitioners, and into books.

At glory, questions, and books

وَقَدْ شَكَتْ فَشَفاهَا اللهُ وَارْتَجَعتْ

وَقَدْ شَكَتْ فَشَفاهَا اللهُ وَارْتَجَعتْ

لَحْظاً أَحَدَّ مِنَ المَأْثُورَةِ الرُّسُبِ

لَحْظاً أَحَدَّ مِنَ المَأْثُورَةِ الرُّسُبِ

And it had ailed; then God healed it, and it regained

She complained, so God healed her and restored

A glance sharper than patterned, deep-biting swords.

A glance sharper than famed blades

وَالشَّمْسُ تَرْنو بِعَيْنٍ لا يُغَيِّضُ مِنْ

وَالشَّمْسُ تَرْنو بِعَيْنٍ لا يُغَيِّضُ مِنْ

أَنْوارِها ما يُوارِيها مِنَ السُّحُبِ

أَنْوارِها ما يُوارِيها مِنَ السُّحُبِ

And the sun gazes with an eye undiminished in

The sun gazes with an eye that will not shade

Its radiance by the clouds that veil it.

From its light what clouds try to conceal

وَالمَشْرَفِيّةُ لا تَنْبو مَضارِبُها

وَالمَشْرَفِيّةُ لا تَنْبو مَضارِبُها

فيها المَضاءُ وَإِن رُدَّتْ إِلى القُرُبِ

فيها المَضاءُ وَإِن رُدَّتْ إِلى القُرُبِ

And the striking edges of Mashrafi swords never fail;

And Al-Mashrafiya’s windows do not hide

They retain their keenness, even when returned to scabbards.

Their brightness even if shuttered and enclosed

فَأَصْبحَ المَجْدُ مَسْروراً بِعافِيةٍ

فَأَصْبحَ المَجْدُ مَسْروراً بِعافِيةٍ

أُلاعِبُ الظِّلَّ في أَثْوابِها القُشُبِ

أُلاعِبُ الظِّلَّ في أَثْوابِها القُشُبِ

So glory rejoiced in good health,

So glory awoke happy with wellness

In whose fresh robes I play with the shade.

Playing with its shadows in their veiled clothes

وَأَشْرَقَ الدَّهْرُ حَتّى خِلْتُ صَفْحَتَهُ

وَأَشْرَقَ الدَّهْرُ حَتّى خِلْتُ صَفْحَتَهُ

تُقَدُّ مِنْ وَجَناتِ الخُرَّدِ العُرُبِ

تُقَدُّ مِنْ وَجَناتِ الخُرَّدِ العُرُبِ

And time grew radiant, till I thought its face

And time shone until I saw its page

Was cut from the cheeks of shy, affectionate maidens.

Brought out from the cheeks of pretty maidens