صباه الهوى ما أحوجَ الخِلْوَ أن يصبو

صباه الهوى ما أحوجَ الخِلْوَ أن يصبو

خليٌّ مِنَ الأشجانِ ما شفَّهُ الحبُّ

خليٌّ مِنَ الأشجانِ ما شفَّهُ الحبُّ

Love captivated him—how sorely the heart-free man needs to yearn!

The passions of love - how much does absence need to rage!

Free of sorrows, he had not been wasted by love.

A bosom untouched by love's pangs - love has not melted it.

أقامَ زماناً ليس يعرفُ ما الهوى

أقامَ زماناً ليس يعرفُ ما الهوى

الى أن تولَّتْهُ البراقعُ والنُّقْبُ

الى أن تولَّتْهُ البراقعُ والنُّقْبُ

He lived a while, not knowing what love was,

For a time it knew not what love was,

until face-coverings and veils took hold of him.

Until veils and face-covers drew him in.

رمتْهُ على عمدٍ فلم تُخطِ قلبَهُ

رمتْهُ على عمدٍ فلم تُخطِ قلبَهُ

سهامُ عيونٍ راشَهنَّ له الهُدبُ

سهامُ عيونٍ راشَهنَّ له الهُدبُ

They struck him deliberately and did not miss his heart—

Eyes shot him down though aiming elsewhere;

arrows from eyes, feathered for him by lashes.

The archers who launched at him their glances' arrows.

عيونُ مهاً تنبو السيوفُ مواضياً

عيونُ مهاً تنبو السيوفُ مواضياً

وتلكَ العيونُ البابليةُ لا تنبو

وتلكَ العيونُ البابليةُ لا تنبو

Eyes of oryx: even keen swords miss their mark,

Eyes whose tears are promises - swords from their glances flash;

but those Babylonian eyes never miss.

While those Babylonian eyes promise nothing.

ولم تبدَّى السربُ قلتُ لصاحبي

ولم تبدَّى السربُ قلتُ لصاحبي

لأمرٍ تبدَّى في مراتِعه السَّربُ

لأمرٍ تبدَّى في مراتِعه السَّربُ

And [when] the herd appeared, I said to my companion:

When the caravan appeared, I said to my companion,

"For some purpose the herd has appeared in its pastures."

"For some matter has the caravan appeared in its grazing grounds."

فلم يُستَتمَّ إلا وقد غدا

فلم يُستَتمَّ إلا وقد غدا

فؤادي بحكمِ الوجدِ وهو له نهبُ

فؤادي بحكمِ الوجدِ وهو له نهبُ

My words were scarcely finished before

But no sooner said than my heart was captive

my heart came under passion's rule, plunder for it.

By passion's decree - it was seduced and plundered.

الى اللهِ أشكو مِن غرامٍ إذا خبتْ

الى اللهِ أشكو مِن غرامٍ إذا خبتْ

لوافحُ نيرانِ الغَضا فهو لا يخبو

لوافحُ نيرانِ الغَضا فهو لا يخبو

To God I complain of a passion that, when they die down—

To God I complain of a love when it wanes,

the scorching fires of ghada wood—never dies.

Its fading fires flare up, it cannot be concealed.

ومِن جيرةٍ بانوا فأصبحتُ بعدَهمْ

ومِن جيرةٍ بانوا فأصبحتُ بعدَهمْ

مقيماً بجسمٍ ليس يَصحَبُه قلبُ

مقيماً بجسمٍ ليس يَصحَبُه قلبُ

and of neighbors who departed, leaving me

Of a neighbourhood whose people decamped - after them

remaining in a body no heart accompanies.

I remain, my body without the heart that went with them.

ومِن مقلةٍ لم يَفْنَ فائضُ غَربِها

ومِن مقلةٍ لم يَفْنَ فائضُ غَربِها

على الدارِ إلا فاضَ مِن بعدِه غَربُ

على الدارِ إلا فاضَ مِن بعدِه غَربُ

and of an eye: no flood of its tears is spent

Of tears whose flooding torrents did not exhaust

over the dwelling before another flood follows it.

Their spring, but flowed long - after they went the spring flowed on.

اِذا انهلَّ في تلكَ المرابعِ دمعُها

اِذا انهلَّ في تلكَ المرابعِ دمعُها

تضاءلَ شؤبوبٌ به العارضُ السَّكْبُ

تضاءلَ شؤبوبٌ به العارضُ السَّكْبُ

Whenever its tears pour down in those meadows,

When she lets fall those tears in her pastures,

a streaming cloud's downpour is dwarfed beside them.

The cheeks' fresh down is envied by cascades from her eyes.

تَحدَّرَ في بالي الرسومِ كأنَّه

تَحدَّرَ في بالي الرسومِ كأنَّه

عقيبَ نوى سكانِها لؤلؤٌ رطبُ

عقيبَ نوى سكانِها لؤلؤٌ رطبُ

It flows among the worn traces, as though,

In my mind visions pour like pearls still moist

after their dwellers' departure, it were moist pearls.

With the essence of those who once dwelt there.

أسا البعدُ في حقي بغيرِ جنايةٍ

أسا البعدُ في حقي بغيرِ جنايةٍ

غداةَ النوى أضعافَ ما أحسنَ القربُ

غداةَ النوى أضعافَ ما أحسنَ القربُ

Distance wronged me, though I had done no wrong,

Absence, though I committed no crime, was harsher

on the morning of parting, many times beyond the kindness nearness had shown.

After the encampment - more cruel than sweet presence had been kind.

فلّلهِ قلبي كم يُجَنُّ جنونُه

فلّلهِ قلبي كم يُجَنُّ جنونُه

بليلاهُ في تلكَ الديارِ وكم يصبو

بليلاهُ في تلكَ الديارِ وكم يصبو

By God, my heart! How mad its madness grows

My heart - how madness makes it rave and pine

for its Layla in those dwellings, and how it yearns!

For their nights in that land! How it yearns and burns!

وكم يشتكي جدَّ الفراقِ وعندها

وكم يشتكي جدَّ الفراقِ وعندها

بأنَّ النوى والهجرَ مِن مثلِها لِعبُ

بأنَّ النوى والهجرَ مِن مثلِها لِعبُ

How often it laments parting's seriousness, while to her

How it laments the hardship of parting - and then

separation and desertion by one like her are play.

Protests that leave-taking and absence from them was mere child's play!

ومُضْنَى هوًى يشتاقُ قوماً ترحَّلوا

ومُضْنَى هوًى يشتاقُ قوماً ترحَّلوا

وسارتْ بهم عنه الغريريَّةُ الصُّهْبُ

وسارتْ بهم عنه الغريريَّةُ الصُّهْبُ

And one wasted by love longs for people who departed,

It chafes at the pace of one distraught for a folk who folded

and tawny Ghurayri camels carried them away from him.

Their tents and the red camels bore them away.

بكى بسحابِ الدمعِ حتى تعجبتْ

بكى بسحابِ الدمعِ حتى تعجبتْ

على الدارِ مِن تَهمالِ أدمعِه السُّحْبُ

على الدارِ مِن تَهمالِ أدمعِه السُّحْبُ

He wept with a cloud of tears until the clouds marveled

Weeping, his tears like clouds, he amazed

at his tears pouring over the dwelling.

The land with the flood pouring from his streaming eyes.

وسافَ ترابَ الربعِ شوقاً كأنَّما

وسافَ ترابَ الربعِ شوقاً كأنَّما

تبدَّلَ مسكاً بعدَهمْ ذلكَ التربُ

تبدَّلَ مسكاً بعدَهمْ ذلكَ التربُ

He sniffed the dwelling's dust in longing, as though

Crossing the land's dust in his craving, he made

that earth had become musk since they left.

The dust turn to musk when they had gone from it.

وعاينَ هاتيكَ الديارَ خوالياً

وعاينَ هاتيكَ الديارَ خوالياً

فما شاقَهُ النادي ولا المنزلُ الرحبُ

فما شاقَهُ النادي ولا المنزلُ الرحبُ

He saw those dwellings lying empty,

He looked on those deserted encampments,

and neither the gathering-place nor the spacious home stirred his longing.

Untroubled by temple or wide hall where they dwelt.

وأصبحَ فيها بعدما بانَ أهلُها

وأصبحَ فيها بعدما بانَ أهلُها

وأدمعُه فيهنَّ وهي له شُرْبُ

وأدمعُه فيهنَّ وهي له شُرْبُ

He was left there after their people departed,

He saw it empty of its people, his tears upon it

and his tears within them were his drink.

Fresh as the day they bubbled up from his lids.

فماذا أرادوا بالفراقِ وبالنوى

فماذا أرادوا بالفراقِ وبالنوى

لقد كان يكفي منهمُ الصونُ والُحجْبُ

لقد كان يكفي منهمُ الصونُ والُحجْبُ

What, then, did they intend by parting and departure?

Why did they abandon us, move on?

Their reserve and veiling would surely have sufficed.

Modesty and veiling might have been enough!

لهم منَّيَ العُتبى على كلَّ حالةٍ

لهم منَّيَ العُتبى على كلَّ حالةٍ

ولي منهمُ في كلَّ حالاتيَ العَتبُ

ولي منهمُ في كلَّ حالاتيَ العَتبُ

They have appeasement from me in every circumstance,

I blame them whatever state I am in,

and I have reproach from them in every state of mine.

While for me, whatever my state, they have rebukes.

ويُلزمُني العَذّالُ ذنباً وليس لي

ويُلزمُني العَذّالُ ذنباً وليس لي

كما زعموا جُرْمٌ بُعَدُّ ولا ذَنْبُ

كما زعموا جُرْمٌ بُعَدُّ ولا ذَنْبُ

The censurers charge me with a sin, yet I have

My lover saddles me with sins I never committed,

no crime to be counted, as they claim, and no sin.

As they claimed - mere absence and remoteness are no crimes!

فيا ليت شعري هل أرى الدارَ بعدما

فيا ليت شعري هل أرى الدارَ بعدما

تناءوا بهمْ تدنو ويلتئمُ الشَّعبُ

تناءوا بهمْ تدنو ويلتئمُ الشَّعبُ

Would that I knew: shall I see the dwelling—after

Oh, will I ever see their camping grounds again

they went far—draw near with them, and the rift heal?

After they struck their tents and loaded their camels?

ويُدني مزاري منهمُ كلُّ بازلٍ

ويُدني مزاري منهمُ كلُّ بازلٍ

سواءٌ عليه القربُ والمرتمى السَّهبُ

سواءٌ عليه القربُ والمرتمى السَّهبُ

And may every mature camel shorten my journey to them,

Will every traveller call on me, will the distances shrink?

to whom nearness and the far, open waste are alike.

Alike to him whether remote or near I dwell?

اِذا ما تبارى والرياحُ إلى مدًى

اِذا ما تبارى والرياحُ إلى مدًى

كبتْ لَغَباً في اِثرِه وهو ولا يكبو

كبتْ لَغَباً في اِثرِه وهو ولا يكبو

Whenever he races the winds toward a goal,

When the winds and the breezes race out to the horizon's edge,

they stumble exhausted in his wake, while he never stumbles.

Capturing the gazelles that flee them but cannot escape,

يَغُذُّ برحلي منه في كلَّ مهمٍه

يَغُذُّ برحلي منه في كلَّ مهمٍه

وبي عند حاجاتي إلى مثلِه هَضْبُ

وبي عند حاجاتي إلى مثلِه هَضْبُ

Through every wilderness, one of his kind speeds with my saddle,

My camel feeds from them at every task,

and bears me when I need his like—a mountain of a camel.

And I, when I have need, find them a meadow.

ويسري وتسري الريحُ حسرى وراءَهُ

ويسري وتسري الريحُ حسرى وراءَهُ

إلى حيث لم تَبلُغْ مجالهَهُ النُّجْبُ

إلى حيث لم تَبلُغْ مجالهَهُ النُّجْبُ

He journeys by night, while the wind follows him exhausted,

The winds blow, the breezes fan his heels

to where choice camels have never reached his range.

To where they cannot reach, no matter how they pursue.

ويَرْجِعُ ذاكَ البعدُ قرباً وتنثني

ويَرْجِعُ ذاكَ البعدُ قرباً وتنثني

به سَجْسَجاً عندي زعازعُه النُّكْبُ

به سَجْسَجاً عندي زعازعُه النُّكْبُ

That distance becomes nearness, and

Then absence turns to presence, plains close

through him its contrary gales become mild air for me.

As the passes are folded back by his treading their bends.

ومما شجاني في الغصونِ ابنُ أيكةٍ

ومما شجاني في الغصونِ ابنُ أيكةٍ

تميلُ به مِن طيبِ تغريدِه القضبُ

تميلُ به مِن طيبِ تغريدِه القضبُ

And among what grieves me is a child of the grove amid the boughs:

Among the boughs a raven of Ayka wounds me,

the twigs sway toward him from the sweetness of his song.

Swaying gracefully, the twigs pliant to its lovely singing.

ينوحُ ووجهُ الصبحُ قد لاحَ مشرقاً

ينوحُ ووجهُ الصبحُ قد لاحَ مشرقاً

يقولُ لنوّامِ الدُّجىويحكُمْ هبّوا

يقولُ لنوّامِ الدُّجىويحكُمْ هبّوا

He mourns as dawn's face shines forth radiant,

It moans though dawn's face gleams radiant,

telling the sleepers of darkness, "Woe to you! Awake!"

Saying to night's slumberers, "Rouse yourselves!"

فلم أرَ مثلي في الغرامِ ومثلَه

فلم أرَ مثلي في الغرامِ ومثلَه

خليلَيْ وفاءٍ بَزَّ صبرَيهما الحبُّ

خليلَيْ وفاءٍ بَزَّ صبرَيهما الحبُّ

I have seen none like me in passion, nor like him—

I've seen none love like me, nor one so true

two faithful companions whose patience love overcame.

As my love - we surpassed all with our patience.

غرامٌ إذا ما قلتُ هانَ رأيتُه

غرامٌ إذا ما قلتُ هانَ رأيتُه

وقد بانَ أهلوهِ له مركبٌ صعبُ

وقد بانَ أهلوهِ له مركبٌ صعبُ

A passion: whenever I say it has grown easy, I find,

A love - when I say it's finished, I see

its people having departed, that its mount is hard to ride.

It's folk pitching their tents - a grueling task.

وبرقٌ بدا والليلُ ملقٍ جِرانَه

وبرقٌ بدا والليلُ ملقٍ جِرانَه

يلوحُ على بعدٍ كما اختُرِطَ العَضبُ

يلوحُ على بعدٍ كما اختُرِطَ العَضبُ

And lightning appeared, while night laid down its neck,

Lightning flashes while night still spreads its cloak,

flashing far away like a keen sword unsheathed.

Flickering in the distance like an unsheathed sword.

سَهِرْتُ لجرّاهُ إلى أن تمايلتْ

سَهِرْتُ لجرّاهُ إلى أن تمايلتْ

الى الغربِ مِن أقصى مشارِقها الشُّهبُ

الى الغربِ مِن أقصى مشارِقها الشُّهبُ

I stayed awake because of it until the bright stars drifted

I stayed awake following its flashes

westward from their farthest rising-places.

Till the meteors inclined to the west from their eastern rising.

أُنظَّمُ شعراً كالِغرِنْدِ كلامُه

أُنظَّمُ شعراً كالِغرِنْدِ كلامُه

شَرودٌ ولا تِيهٌ لديهِ ولا عُجبُ

شَرودٌ ولا تِيهٌ لديهِ ولا عُجبُ

I compose poetry whose wording is like gharind [unclear term],

If I compose poetry my utterance rambles,

far-ranging, with neither haughtiness nor conceit.

Meandering, bewildered, with no limitations or reserve.

فسائرُ أشعارِ الخلائقِ جملةً

فسائرُ أشعارِ الخلائقِ جملةً

لِحاءٌ وهذا الشعرُ مِن دونِها لُبُّ

لِحاءٌ وهذا الشعرُ مِن دونِها لُبُّ

Thus all the other poetry of humankind, taken together,

All other poetry is mere prattle;

is bark; this poetry, apart from the rest, is pith.

This poetry surpasses all that idle babble.

يغنَّي به الساري فَيَسْتَعْبذب الهوى

يغنَّي به الساري فَيَسْتَعْبذب الهوى

ويستبعد المرمى فيحدو به الركبُ

ويستبعد المرمى فيحدو به الركبُ

The night traveler sings it and finds love sweet,

It makes the wise ecstatic for love when sung,

and deems the goal distant, so the caravan chants it onward.

Spurning known goals, spurring the camel-riders on.