أُراعي بُلوغَ الشَيبِ وَالشَيبُ دائِيا

أُراعي بُلوغَ الشَيبِ وَالشَيبُ دائِيا

وَأُفني اللَيالي وَاللَيالي فَنائِيا

وَأُفني اللَيالي وَاللَيالي فَنائِيا

I watch gray hair arrive, though gray hair is my ailment.

I fear the coming of old age, which is my relentless malady,

I consume the nights, though the nights are my undoing.

And the passing of nights, which spells my end.

وَما أَدَّعي أَنّي بَريءٌ مِنَ الهَوى

وَما أَدَّعي أَنّي بَريءٌ مِنَ الهَوى

وَلَكِنَّني لا يَعلَمُ القَومُ ما بِيا

وَلَكِنَّني لا يَعلَمُ القَومُ ما بِيا

I do not claim that I am free of love,

I claim not to be free of passion,

but the people do not know what afflicts me.

Though none knows the truth that lies within.

تَلَوَّنَ رَأسي وَالرَجاءُ بِحالِهِ

تَلَوَّنَ رَأسي وَالرَجاءُ بِحالِهِ

وَفي كُلِّ حالٍ لا تَغُبُّ الأَمانِيا

وَفي كُلِّ حالٍ لا تَغُبُّ الأَمانِيا

My head has changed color, while hope remains unchanged,

My hair has greyed but hope remains the same,

and in every state my wishes never cease.

And dreams persist despite life's ups and downs.

خَليلَيَّ هَل تَثنى مِنَ الوَجدِ عَبرَةٌ

خَليلَيَّ هَل تَثنى مِنَ الوَجدِ عَبرَةٌ

وَهَل تُرجِعُ الأَيّامُ ما كانَ ماضِيا

وَهَل تُرجِعُ الأَيّامُ ما كانَ ماضِيا

My two friends, can a tear of longing be restrained?

My friend, does anguish no longer bring forth tears?

Can the days bring back what has passed?

Can days gone by ever come back again?

إِذا شِئتَ أَن تَسلى الحَبيبَ فَخَلَّهِ

إِذا شِئتَ أَن تَسلى الحَبيبَ فَخَلَّهِ

وَراءَكَ أَيّاماً وَجُرَّ اللَيالِيا

وَراءَكَ أَيّاماً وَجُرَّ اللَيالِيا

If you wish to forget the beloved, leave him

If you wish to console your beloved, then leave

behind you for days, and drag the nights along.

The days and nights of the past far behind.

أَعِفُّ وَفي قَلبي مِنَ الحُبِّ لَوعَةٌ

أَعِفُّ وَفي قَلبي مِنَ الحُبِّ لَوعَةٌ

وَليسَ عَفيفاً تارِكُ الحُبِّ سالِيا

وَليسَ عَفيفاً تارِكُ الحُبِّ سالِيا

I remain chaste, though love burns within my heart;

I feign dignity but my heart aches with love,

he who abandons love, having forgotten it, is not chaste.

One who abandons love can hardly be called chaste.

إِذا عَطَفَتني لِلحَبيبِ عَواطِفٌ

إِذا عَطَفَتني لِلحَبيبِ عَواطِفٌ

أَبَيتُ وَفاتَ الذُلُّ مَن كانَ آبِيا

أَبَيتُ وَفاتَ الذُلُّ مَن كانَ آبِيا

When feelings bend me toward the beloved,

When passion inclines me towards my beloved,

I refuse; humiliation misses him who will not yield.

I refuse out of pride though it causes me pain.

وَغَيرِيَ يَستَنشي الرِياحَ صَبابَةً

وَغَيرِيَ يَستَنشي الرِياحَ صَبابَةً

وَيُنشي عَلى طولِ الغَرامِ القَوافِيا

وَيُنشي عَلى طولِ الغَرامِ القَوافِيا

Others inhale the winds in yearning

Others effortlessly compose poetry of youthful joy,

and compose rhymes through their enduring passion.

And gracefully ride the waves of desire.

وَأَلقى مِنَ الأَحبابِ ما لَو لَقيتُهُ

وَأَلقى مِنَ الأَحبابِ ما لَو لَقيتُهُ

مِنَ الناسِ سَلَّطتُ الظُبى وَالعَوالِيا

مِنَ الناسِ سَلَّطتُ الظُبى وَالعَوالِيا

I suffer from loved ones what, had I suffered it

While from loved ones I've received wounds

from other people, would have unleashed blades and tall spears.

That had they come from others, I would have sought revenge.

فَلا تَحسَبوا أَنّي رَضيتُ بِذِلَّةٍ

فَلا تَحسَبوا أَنّي رَضيتُ بِذِلَّةٍ

وَلَكِنَّ حُبّاً غادَرَ القَلبَ راضِيا

وَلَكِنَّ حُبّاً غادَرَ القَلبَ راضِيا

Do not suppose that I have accepted humiliation;

Think not that I've accepted degradation,

rather, love has left my heart willing.

Nay, it was love that willingly surrendered my heart.

رَعى اللَهُ مَن وَدَّعَتهُ يَومَ دابِقٍ

رَعى اللَهُ مَن وَدَّعَتهُ يَومَ دابِقٍ

وَوَلَّيتُ أَنهى الدَمعَ ماكانَ جارِيا

وَوَلَّيتُ أَنهى الدَمعَ ماكانَ جارِيا

May God watch over him whom I bade farewell on the day of Dabiq.

He knowingly hurt me until I complained about him,

I turned away, checking the tears as they flowed.

One who complains will never want for sympathy.

وَأَكتُمُ أَنفاسي إِذا ما ذَكَرتُهُ

وَأَكتُمُ أَنفاسي إِذا ما ذَكَرتُهُ

وَما كُلُ ما تُخفيهِ يا قَلبُ خافِيا

وَما كُلُ ما تُخفيهِ يا قَلبُ خافِيا

I stifle my breaths whenever I remember him;

When my enemy acts the fool,

not everything you conceal, O heart, stays hidden.

I hold back my tongue lest I dishonor myself.

فَعِندي زَفيرٌ ما تَرَقّى مِنَ الحَشى

فَعِندي زَفيرٌ ما تَرَقّى مِنَ الحَشى

وَعِندي دُموعٌ ما طَلَعنَ المَآقِيا

وَعِندي دُموعٌ ما طَلَعنَ المَآقِيا

Within me is a sigh that has not risen from my breast,

When a friend offends me, I cut him off,

and within me are tears that have not reached my eyes' corners.

Even if I was just about to meet him.

مَضى ما مَضى مِمَّن كَرِهتُ فِراقَه

مَضى ما مَضى مِمَّن كَرِهتُ فِراقَه

وَقَد قَلَّ عِندي الدَمعُ إِن كُنتُ باكِيا

وَقَد قَلَّ عِندي الدَمعُ إِن كُنتُ باكِيا

Gone are those who have gone, whose parting I dreaded,

I have a disposition that remains constant to my goals,

and my tears have grown scarce, if I would weep.

Judging the days gone by with no regrets.

وَلا خَيرَ في الدُنيا إِذا كُنتُ حاضِراً

وَلا خَيرَ في الدُنيا إِذا كُنتُ حاضِراً

وَكانَ الَّذي يَغرى بِهِ القَلبُ نائِيا

وَكانَ الَّذي يَغرى بِهِ القَلبُ نائِيا

There is no good in the world when I am here

I see water as sweeter than any wine I have tasted,

and the one who captivates my heart is far away.

Fairer than the purest springs.

إِذا اللَيلُ واراني خَفيتُ عَنِ الكَرى

إِذا اللَيلُ واراني خَفيتُ عَنِ الكَرى

وَأَيدي المَطايا جِنحَ لَيلي إِزائِيا

وَأَيدي المَطايا جِنحَ لَيلي إِزائِيا

When night conceals me, I hide from slumber,

Land that I wander is more fragrant than my home,

while the mounts' forelegs are beside me in the depth of my night.

As through the valleys my robes sweep the glories.

وَما طالَ لَيلي غَيرَ أَنَّ عَلاقَةً

وَما طالَ لَيلي غَيرَ أَنَّ عَلاقَةً

بِقَلبِيَ تَستَقري بِعَيني الدَرارِيا

بِقَلبِيَ تَستَقري بِعَيني الدَرارِيا

My night is not long, except that a love

My Lord has granted me all that I have sought,

within my heart scans the shining stars through my eyes.

What arrow has ever flown truer to its target?

أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَرى غَيرَ موجَعٍ

أَلا لَيتَ شِعري هَل أَرى غَيرَ موجَعٍ

وَهَل أَلقَيَن قَلباً مِنَ الوَجدِ خالِيا

وَهَل أَلقَيَن قَلباً مِنَ الوَجدِ خالِيا

Ah, would that I knew: shall I see anyone unhurt?

Passions have filled my heart and urgent needs

Shall I ever meet a heart free of longing?

Have sent me riding into the darkest nights.

بِأَيِّ جَنانٍ قارِحٍ أَطلُبُ العُلى

بِأَيِّ جَنانٍ قارِحٍ أَطلُبُ العُلى

وَأُطمِعُ سَيفي أَن يُبيدَ الأَعادِيا

وَأُطمِعُ سَيفي أَن يُبيدَ الأَعادِيا

With what seasoned heart can I pursue high honor

How shameful that I ask for more before fulfilling

and encourage my sword to annihilate the enemies,

What I already owe for days gone by.

إِذا كُنتُ أُعطي النَفسَ في الحُبِّ حُكمَها

إِذا كُنتُ أُعطي النَفسَ في الحُبِّ حُكمَها

وَأُودِعُ قَلبي وَالفُؤادَ الغَوانِيا

وَأُودِعُ قَلبي وَالفُؤادَ الغَوانِيا

when I grant my soul its own rule in love

I see Time as an usurper of what is not his right,

and entrust my heart and inner being to beautiful women?

So no wonder he reclaims what was freely given.

وَلَم أَدنُ مِن وُدٍّ وَقَد غاضَ وِدُّهُ

وَلَم أَدنُ مِن وُدٍّ وَقَد غاضَ وِدُّهُ

وَلَكِنَّني داوَيتُهُ بِبِعادِيا

وَلَكِنَّني داوَيتُهُ بِبِعادِيا

I did not draw near to a friend whose affection had ebbed;

My aging is not from the years gone by,

rather, I treated him with my absence.

But from the dust of Time's battles that has covered my black hair.

تَعَمَّدَني بِالضَيمِ حَتّى شَكوتُهُ

تَعَمَّدَني بِالضَيمِ حَتّى شَكوتُهُ

وَمَن يَشكُ لا يَعدَم مِنَ الناسِ شاكِيا

وَمَن يَشكُ لا يَعدَم مِنَ الناسِ شاكِيا

He singled me out for oppression until I complained of him;

When the best of my poetry declined, I lamented,

whoever complains finds others among people who complain.

And worries turned the rest of my hair white.

وَإِنّي إِذا أَبدى العَدُوُّ سَفاهَةً

وَإِنّي إِذا أَبدى العَدُوُّ سَفاهَةً

حَبَستُ عَنِ العَوراءِ فَضلَ لِسانِيا

حَبَستُ عَنِ العَوراءِ فَضلَ لِسانِيا

When an enemy displays foolishness,

To me death seems a disease that no one can cure,

I withhold my tongue's excess from foul speech.

And none falls ill who is healed by fate.

وَكُنتُ إِذا اِلتاثَ الصَديقُ قَطَعتُهُ

وَكُنتُ إِذا اِلتاثَ الصَديقُ قَطَعتُهُ

وَإِن كانَ يَوماً رائِحاً كُنتُ غادِيا

وَإِن كانَ يَوماً رائِحاً كُنتُ غادِيا

Whenever a friend turned wayward, I cut him off;

Of what use is a foe whom I always best

if he would leave one evening, I left that morning.

Yet returns again and again to oppress me from behind?

سَجِيَّةُ مَضّاءٍ عَلى ما يُريدُهُ

سَجِيَّةُ مَضّاءٍ عَلى ما يُريدُهُ

مُقِضٍّ عَلى الأَيّامِ ما كانَ قاضِيا

مُقِضٍّ عَلى الأَيّامِ ما كانَ قاضِيا

Such is the disposition of one resolute in what he wants,

The death of my loved ones stirs me even in their stillness,

who gives the days no rest for as long as he decrees.

While the days renewed show Time itself weeping.

أَرى الماءَ أَحلى مِن رُضابٍ أُذوقُهُ

أَرى الماءَ أَحلى مِن رُضابٍ أُذوقُهُ

وَأَحسَنَ مِن بيضِ الثُغورِ الأَقاحِيا

وَأَحسَنَ مِن بيضِ الثُغورِ الأَقاحِيا

I find water sweeter than the nectar of lips I taste,

The furthest thing from you is what has passed away,

and daisies lovelier than white teeth.

While the nearest is that which is yet to come.

وَأَطيَبُ مِن داري بِلاداً أَجوبُها

وَأَطيَبُ مِن داري بِلاداً أَجوبُها

إِلى العِزِّ جَوبي بِالبَنانِ رِدائِيا

إِلى العِزِّ جَوبي بِالبَنانِ رِدائِيا

Lands I traverse are sweeter than my home,

I am no reservoir of riches but rather

on my way to honor, as I rend my cloak with my fingers.

My inheritance is honor, merit, and glory.

وَرَبُّ مُنىً سَدَّدتُ فيهِ مَطالِبي

وَرَبُّ مُنىً سَدَّدتُ فيهِ مَطالِبي

وَأَيُّ سِهامٍ لَو بَلَغنَ المَرامِيا

وَأَيُّ سِهامٍ لَو بَلَغنَ المَرامِيا

And many a hope at which I aimed my aspirations—

Better to squander what I own in my lifetime

what arrows they were, had they reached their marks!

Than to die and leave it all to vanish.

وَهَمٌّ سَقَيتُ القَلبَ مِنهُ وَحاجَةٌ

وَهَمٌّ سَقَيتُ القَلبَ مِنهُ وَحاجَةٌ

رَكِبتُ إِلَيها غارِبَ اللَيلِ عارِيا

رَكِبتُ إِلَيها غارِبَ اللَيلِ عارِيا

And a sorrow from which I made my heart drink, and a need

I find my peace in being content,

toward which I rode the night's withers bareback.

Not in seeking riches which only prolong my torment.

وَعارِيَةُ الأَيّامِ عِندي سَيِّئَةٌ

وَعارِيَةُ الأَيّامِ عِندي سَيِّئَةٌ

أَسَأتُ لَها قَبلَ الأَوانِ التَقاضِيا

أَسَأتُ لَها قَبلَ الأَوانِ التَقاضِيا

The loan of the days is an evil thing to me;

Rarely do I find a kindred spirit,

I wronged it, demanding repayment before its time.

Such fortune is beyond all hopes.

أَرى الدَهرَ غَصّاباً لِما لَيسَ حَقَّهُ

أَرى الدَهرَ غَصّاباً لِما لَيسَ حَقَّهُ

فَلا عَجَبٌ أَن يَستَرِدَّ العَوارِيا

فَلا عَجَبٌ أَن يَستَرِدَّ العَوارِيا

I see Time as a usurper of what is not its due,

The loneliest man is he who lives among his own people,

so no wonder that it reclaims its loans.

Finding none but adversaries to greet.

وَما شِبتُ مِن طولِ السِنينَ وَإِنَّما

وَما شِبتُ مِن طولِ السِنينَ وَإِنَّما

غُبارُ حُروبِ الدَهرِ غَطّى سَوادِيا

غُبارُ حُروبِ الدَهرِ غَطّى سَوادِيا

I have not grown gray from the length of years; rather,

Most who profess friendship are like a naked blade,

the dust of Time's wars has covered my black hair.

Testing proves them false and keen to turn against you.

وَما اِنحَطَّ أولى الشَعرِ حَتّى نَعَيتُهُ

وَما اِنحَطَّ أولى الشَعرِ حَتّى نَعَيتُهُ

فَبَيَّضَ هَمُّ القَلبِ باقي عِذارِيا

فَبَيَّضَ هَمُّ القَلبِ باقي عِذارِيا

The first of my hair had scarcely fallen before I mourned it;

I am but a scabbard, so when I pass I pass,

then my heart's sorrow whitened my remaining sideburns.

I owe no debt to the days I am leaving.

أَرى المَوتَ داءً لا يُبَلُّ عَليلُهُ

أَرى المَوتَ داءً لا يُبَلُّ عَليلُهُ

وَما اِعتَلَّ مَن لاقى مِنَ الدَهرِ شافِيا

وَما اِعتَلَّ مَن لاقى مِنَ الدَهرِ شافِيا

I see death as a disease whose sufferer never recovers;

Life has always found me resolute,

nor has one sickened who found in Time a healer.

Eager to brave the nights or cross the desert sands.

فَما لِيَ وَقِرناً لا يُغالَبُ كُلَّما

فَما لِيَ وَقِرناً لا يُغالَبُ كُلَّما

مَنَعتُ أَمامي جاءَني مِن وَرَآئِيا

مَنَعتُ أَمامي جاءَني مِن وَرَآئِيا

What have I to do with a rival who cannot be overcome? Whenever

My stalwart hands race the dawn stars at night,

I guard my front, he comes upon me from behind.

Galloping to overtake the heavenly maidens.

يُحَرِّكُني مَن ماتَ لي بِسُكونِهِ

يُحَرِّكُني مَن ماتَ لي بِسُكونِهِ

وَتَجديدُ دَهري أَن أُرى الدَهرَ باكِيا

وَتَجديدُ دَهري أَن أُرى الدَهرَ باكِيا

One of mine who has died stirs me through his stillness;

We leave at night in summer and will not stop

the renewal of my days is to be seen forever weeping.

Until the morning star is in sight.

وَأَبعَدُ شَيءٍ مِنكَ ما فاتَ عَصرُهُ

وَأَبعَدُ شَيءٍ مِنكَ ما فاتَ عَصرُهُ

وَأَقرَبُ شَيءٍ مِنكَ ما كانَ جائِيا

وَأَقرَبُ شَيءٍ مِنكَ ما كانَ جائِيا

The farthest thing from you is that whose time has passed;

The long miles of travel fold under them

the nearest thing to you is that which is coming.

As they charge forth bursting with zeal.

وَلَستُ بِخَزّانٍ لِمالٍ وَإِنَّما

وَلَستُ بِخَزّانٍ لِمالٍ وَإِنَّما

تُراثُ العُلى وَالفَضلِ وَالمَجدِ مالِيا

تُراثُ العُلى وَالفَضلِ وَالمَجدِ مالِيا

I am no hoarder of money; rather,

They dash by the brooding doves and their sorrow,

the heritage of high honor, virtue, and glory is my wealth.

Light as the tails of shooting stars.

وَإِتلافُ ما لي عَن حَياتي أَلَذُّ لي

وَإِتلافُ ما لي عَن حَياتي أَلَذُّ لي

وَلا خَيرَ أَن يَبقى وَأُصبِحَ فانِيا

وَلا خَيرَ أَن يَبقى وَأُصبِحَ فانِيا

Spending what I own for my life is sweeter to me;

How many barren and desolate places they have passed,

there is no good in its remaining while I perish.

While others are blessed with burgeoning meadows.

وَإِنّي لَأَلقى راحَتي في تَقَنُّعي

وَإِنّي لَأَلقى راحَتي في تَقَنُّعي

وَفي طَلَبِ الإِثراءِ طولَ عَنائِيا

وَفي طَلَبِ الإِثراءِ طولَ عَنائِيا

Indeed, I find my comfort in contentment,

Some settlements they pass don't know their guest,

and in seeking riches, the prolonging of my toil.

As the dogs bark on through the persisting night.

وَإِنِّيَ إِن أَلقى صَديقاً مُوافِقاً

وَإِنِّيَ إِن أَلقى صَديقاً مُوافِقاً

وَذَلِكَ شَيءٌ عازِبٌ عَن رَجائِيا

وَذَلِكَ شَيءٌ عازِبٌ عَن رَجائِيا

And indeed, if I should find a congenial friend—

Their hands refuse even the dew,

that is something far beyond my hopes.

As if competing to give more generously.

وَإِنَّ غَريبَ القَومِ مَن عاشَ فيهِمُ

وَإِنَّ غَريبَ القَومِ مَن عاشَ فيهِمُ

وَليسَ يَرى إِلّا عَدُوّاً مُداجِيا

وَليسَ يَرى إِلّا عَدُوّاً مُداجِيا

The stranger among a people is he who lives among them

The best men are those whose spears match their pledge,

and sees only a dissembling enemy.

And whose valor vies with their racing steeds.

وَأَكثَرُ مَن تَلقاهُ كَالسَيفِ مُرهَفاً

وَأَكثَرُ مَن تَلقاهُ كَالسَيفِ مُرهَفاً

عَلَيكَ وَإِن جَرَّبتَهُ كانَ نابِيا

عَلَيكَ وَإِن جَرَّبتَهُ كانَ نابِيا

Most men you meet are like swords, sharpened

The noblest are those whose hands freely bestow,

against you, but blunt when you test them.

Whether wealth or bravery they choose to give.

وَما أَنا إِلّا غِمدُ قَلبي فَإِن مَضى

وَما أَنا إِلّا غِمدُ قَلبي فَإِن مَضى

مَضَيتُ وَما لي مِنَّةٌ في مَضائِيا

مَضَيتُ وَما لي مِنَّةٌ في مَضائِيا

I am only my heart's sheath: if it advances,

But for the Commander of the Faithful holding me back,

I advance, with no credit to me for my resolve.

I would have unleashed my steeds against all who stood before me.

وَما حَمَلَتني العيسُ إِلّا مُشَمِّراً

وَما حَمَلَتني العيسُ إِلّا مُشَمِّراً

لِأَخرُقَ لَيلاً أَو لِأَقطَعَ وادِيا

لِأَخرُقَ لَيلاً أَو لِأَقطَعَ وادِيا

The pale camels have borne me only girded for action,

He aids me against the days when my hands fall short,

to pierce a night or cross a valley.

Though they rise against me as foes.

طَوارِحَ أَيدٍ في اللَيالي كَأَنَّها

طَوارِحَ أَيدٍ في اللَيالي كَأَنَّها

تُجاري إِلى الصُبحِ النُجومَ الجَوارِيا

تُجاري إِلى الصُبحِ النُجومَ الجَوارِيا

They fling their forelegs through the nights as though

Whenever I desire a journey away from him,

racing the moving stars until dawn.

He loads my provisions and returns my camels.

إِذا ما رَحَلناها مِنَ الصَيفِ لَيلَةً

إِذا ما رَحَلناها مِنَ الصَيفِ لَيلَةً

فَلا حَلَّ حَتّى يَنظُرَ النَجمَ رائِيا

فَلا حَلَّ حَتّى يَنظُرَ النَجمَ رائِيا

When we saddle them for a summer night,

Were it not for him, my face would have no luster

there is no unsaddling until a watcher beholds the star.

And pallor would tinge my cheeks.

طَواهُنَّ طَيَّ السَيرِ في كُلِّ مُهمَهٍ

طَواهُنَّ طَيَّ السَيرِ في كُلِّ مُهمَهٍ

وَرُحنَ خِماصاً قَد طَوَينَ المَوامِيا

وَرُحنَ خِماصاً قَد طَوَينَ المَوامِيا

Travel folded them lean in every wilderness;

Boldly I terrify the beasts in darkest night,

they returned empty-bellied, having folded away the wastes.

And plunge with my armed hosts into the heart of the fray.

مَرَرنَ بِمَيّاسِ الثُمامِ وَحَزنِهِ

مَرَرنَ بِمَيّاسِ الثُمامِ وَحَزنِهِ

خِفافاً كَأَطرافِ العَوالي نَواجِيا

خِفافاً كَأَطرافِ العَوالي نَواجِيا

They passed through swaying thumam grass and its rough ground,

My sword is wise when sheathed, dignified and contained,

light and swift as the tips of tall spears.

But when drawn she wastes no time to strike.

وَكَم جاوَزَت مِن رَملَةٍ ثُمَّ عاقِرٍ

وَكَم جاوَزَت مِن رَملَةٍ ثُمَّ عاقِرٍ

وَأُخرى يَضُفُّ الرَوضُ فيها الغَوادِيا

وَأُخرى يَضُفُّ الرَوضُ فيها الغَوادِيا

How many a sand tract they passed, then a barren one,

Each day she is engaged in battle, and if you witness her

and another whose meadow gathers the morning wanderers;

You will see her piercing armor and breaking through guards.

وَمِن نَفَرٍ لا يَعرِفُ الضَيفَ كَلبُهُم

وَمِن نَفَرٍ لا يَعرِفُ الضَيفَ كَلبُهُم

وَيَسغَبُ حَتّى يَقطَعَ اللَيلَ عاوِيا

وَيَسغَبُ حَتّى يَقطَعَ اللَيلَ عاوِيا

and bands of people whose dog does not recognize a guest,

She presses the advantage to disperse the ranks,

and goes hungry, spending the night howling.

As the blades flash vying to land the first blow.

تَهابُ النَدى أَيديهِمُ فَكَأَنَّما

تَهابُ النَدى أَيديهِمُ فَكَأَنَّما

تُلاطِمُ مِن بَذلِ النَوالِ الأَثافِيا

تُلاطِمُ مِن بَذلِ النَوالِ الأَثافِيا

Their hands dread generosity, as though

She unleashes every hidden art,

in giving gifts they were slapping hearthstones.

Maneuvering like the winds blowing wild.

وَأَعلى الوَرى مَن وافَقَ الرُمحُ باعَهُ

وَأَعلى الوَرى مَن وافَقَ الرُمحُ باعَهُ

وَكانَ لَهُ في كِبَّةِ الخَيلِ ساقِيا

وَكانَ لَهُ في كِبَّةِ الخَيلِ ساقِيا

The highest of humankind is he whose reach the spear matches,

She reins back a horse, bloodied from the stabbed necks,

serving him as cupbearer in the press of horses.

And holds back the noble steeds from the headlong race.

وَأَشرَفُهُم مَن يُطلِقُ الكَفَّ بِالنَدى

وَأَشرَفُهُم مَن يُطلِقُ الكَفَّ بِالنَدى

سَخِيّاً بِبَذلِ المالِ أَو مُتَساخِيا

سَخِيّاً بِبَذلِ المالِ أَو مُتَساخِيا

The noblest is he who opens his hand in generosity,

How their nostrils flare as they rape the meadows,

freely giving wealth, or striving to be generous.

Trampling the ground, churning blood into the waters.

وَإِنَّ أَميرَ المُؤمِنينَ لَحابِسٌ

وَإِنَّ أَميرَ المُؤمِنينَ لَحابِسٌ

رِكابِيَ أَن أَرمي بِها ما أَمامِيا

رِكابِيَ أَن أَرمي بِها ما أَمامِيا

Indeed, the Commander of the Faithful restrains

They emerge from the dust clouds as if they are

my mounts from my driving them toward what lies ahead.

Fingers of lightning born of the fire's glow.

مُعيني عَلى الأَيّامِ إِن غالَبَت يَدي

مُعيني عَلى الأَيّامِ إِن غالَبَت يَدي

وَإِن كُنتُ مَعدُوّاً عَلَيَّ وَعادِيا

وَإِن كُنتُ مَعدُوّاً عَلَيَّ وَعادِيا

He helps me against the days when they overpower my hand,

With each seasoned blade that views no armor impregnable

whether I am attacked or attacking.

And each sharp sword that sees no shields that can defend.

إِذا شِئتُ عَنهُ رِحلَةً حَطَّ جودُهُ

إِذا شِئتُ عَنهُ رِحلَةً حَطَّ جودُهُ

حَقائِبَ أَذوادي وَرَدَّ المَثانِيا

حَقائِبَ أَذوادي وَرَدَّ المَثانِيا

When I wish to journey away from him, his generosity lowers

They give no peace until the battlecolors the ground red,

my provision bags and turns back the reins.

And the mouth of the desert blooms crimson.

وَلَولاهُ ما اِنصانَت لِوَجهي طَلاوَةٌ

وَلَولاهُ ما اِنصانَت لِوَجهي طَلاوَةٌ

وَلا كُنتُ إِلّا شاحِبَ اللَونِ طاوِيا

وَلا كُنتُ إِلّا شاحِبَ اللَونِ طاوِيا

Were it not for him, no freshness would have been preserved in my face;

When you meet the army you decimate them entirely,

I would be nothing but pale and empty-bellied,

And send the caravans fleeing to save their lives.

جَريئاً أَروعُ الوَحشَ في كُلِّ ظُلمَةٍ

جَريئاً أَروعُ الوَحشَ في كُلِّ ظُلمَةٍ

وَأَخلِطُ بِالنَقعِ المَثارِ الدَياجِيا

وَأَخلِطُ بِالنَقعِ المَثارِ الدَياجِيا

boldly startling the wild beasts in every darkness

Not all who aspire to greatness can attain it,

and mingling the dark with stirred-up dust.

There are countless blows beneath the summit.

هُوَ السَيفُ إِن أَغمَدتَهُ كانَ حازِماً

هُوَ السَيفُ إِن أَغمَدتَهُ كانَ حازِماً

وَقوراً وَإِن جَرَّدتَهُ كانَ عادِيا

وَقوراً وَإِن جَرَّدتَهُ كانَ عادِيا

He is the sword: sheathed, he is prudent

How long will my soul keep wishing night and day,

and dignified; drawn, he attacks.

While Time teaches again and again the futility of longing?

لَهُ كُلَّ يَومٍ مَعرَكٌ إِن شَهِدتَهُ

لَهُ كُلَّ يَومٍ مَعرَكٌ إِن شَهِدتَهُ

تَرى قُضُباً عوناً وَهاماً عَذارِيا

تَرى قُضُباً عوناً وَهاماً عَذارِيا

Every day he has a battle; if you witness it,

How often I stand suspended on every breath,

you see seasoned blades and virgin heads.

Ailing from the absence that no companions can cure.

يَضُمُّ عَليها جانِبَ النَقعِ بِالقَنا

يَضُمُّ عَليها جانِبَ النَقعِ بِالقَنا

يُبادِرنَ قُدّامَ السُيوفِ التَراقِيا

يُبادِرنَ قُدّامَ السُيوفِ التَراقِيا

He draws a curtain of dust around them with spears

Will a moment come where I'll find rest,

that reach collarbones before the swords.

Only to awake again restless and wandering?

وَيُرسِلُ في الأَقرانِ كُلَّ خَفِيَّةٍ

وَيُرسِلُ في الأَقرانِ كُلَّ خَفِيَّةٍ

تَخالُ بِها طَيراً مِنَ الريحِ هافِيا

تَخالُ بِها طَيراً مِنَ الريحِ هافِيا

He sends among his opponents each slender shaft,

Will a spring arrive to quench my thirst,

in which you imagine a bird fluttering on the wind.

Only to move on again leaving me unfulfilled?

وَيَثني جَواداً مِن دَمِ الطَعنِ ناعِلاً

وَيَثني جَواداً مِن دَمِ الطَعنِ ناعِلاً

وَيُزجي نَجيباً مِن وَجى السَيرِ حافِيا

وَيُزجي نَجيباً مِن وَجى السَيرِ حافِيا

He turns back a steed shod with the blood of thrusts

I have left the people perplexed, yet they all

and urges on a noble camel, barefoot from the soreness of travel.

Yearn for my company and miss my presence.

تَسافَهُ في الغاراتِ أَشداقُ خَيلِها

تَسافَهُ في الغاراتِ أَشداقُ خَيلِها

عَلى اللُجمِ حَتّى تَكرَعَ الماءَ دامِيا

عَلى اللُجمِ حَتّى تَكرَعَ الماءَ دامِيا

The mouths of his horses rage during raids

I've parted from noble kinsmen, though suffices me

against their bridles, until they drink the water bloody.

To find no shortage of them wherever I go.

عَظيمٌ عَلى غَيظِ الرِجالِ مُحَسَّدٌ

عَظيمٌ عَلى غَيظِ الرِجالِ مُحَسَّدٌ

غَلوبٌ إِذا ما جاذَبوهُ المَعالِيا

غَلوبٌ إِذا ما جاذَبوهُ المَعالِيا

Great despite men's anger, much envied,

What keeps me from composing poetry is that

he prevails when they contend with him for high honors.

I've seen selling one's honor treated lightly.

تُغاديهِ إِلّا في حَرامٍ مُغامِراً

تُغاديهِ إِلّا في حَرامٍ مُغامِراً

وَتَلقاهُ إِلّا عَن نَوالٍ مُحامِيا

وَتَلقاهُ إِلّا عَن نَوالٍ مُحامِيا

At dawn you find him daring, except in forbidden deeds,

When left with no choice but the sword, I brandish it,

and find him protective, except of his bounty.

Preferring hardship to wallowing in disgrace.

وَما قَضَباتُ السَبقِ إِلّا لِماجِدٍ

وَما قَضَباتُ السَبقِ إِلّا لِماجِدٍ

سَعى فَاِحتَوى دونَ الرِجالِ المَساعِيا

سَعى فَاِحتَوى دونَ الرِجالِ المَساعِيا

The rods of victory belong only to a noble man

If I cannot rise to speak from lofty pulpits,

who strove and claimed the achievements above other men.

At least through my deeds I have reached for glory.

أَيا عَلَمَ الإِسلامِ وَالمَجدِ وَالعُلى

أَيا عَلَمَ الإِسلامِ وَالمَجدِ وَالعُلى

رَضيناكَ مَهدِيّاً لِدينٍ وَهادِيا

رَضيناكَ مَهدِيّاً لِدينٍ وَهادِيا

O banner of Islam, glory, and high honor,

Farewell to you, but I remain intent upon you

we accept you as rightly guided in religion and as a guide.

And devoted though you decline my wishes.

وَما حَمَلَتكَ الخَيلُ إِلّا رَدَدتَها

وَما حَمَلَتكَ الخَيلُ إِلّا رَدَدتَها

عَنِ الرَوعِ حُمراً بِالدِماءِ قَوانِيا

عَنِ الرَوعِ حُمراً بِالدِماءِ قَوانِيا

Whenever horses bear you, you return them

May you live as long as the sun and moon grace the world,

from battle red with blood, deep scarlet,

Renewing days and draping nights in their glory.

وَشُعثَ النَواصي يَتَّخِذنَ دَمَ الطُلى

وَشُعثَ النَواصي يَتَّخِذنَ دَمَ الطُلى

دِهاناً وَأَطرافَ العَوالي مَدارِيا

دِهاناً وَأَطرافَ العَوالي مَدارِيا

their forelocks disheveled, taking the blood of necks

as ointment, and the tips of tall spears as combs.

وَغَيرُكَ يَقتادُ الجِيادَ لِغارَةٍ

وَغَيرُكَ يَقتادُ الجِيادَ لِغارَةٍ

وَيُرجِعُها مُلسَ الجُلودِ كَما هِيا

وَيُرجِعُها مُلسَ الجُلودِ كَما هِيا

Others lead noble steeds on a raid

and return them smooth-skinned, unchanged.

وَما الخَيلُ إِلّا أَن تَكونَ سَوابِقاً

وَما الخَيلُ إِلّا أَن تَكونَ سَوابِقاً

وَما الأُسدُ إِلّا أَن تَكونَ ضَوارِيا

وَما الأُسدُ إِلّا أَن تَكونَ ضَوارِيا

Horses are nothing unless they run foremost;

lions are nothing unless they are fierce hunters.

وتَترُكُ صُبحَ الجَهلِ يَغبَرُّ ضَوؤُهُ

وتَترُكُ صُبحَ الجَهلِ يَغبَرُّ ضَوؤُهُ

وَنَقعُكَ أَخّاذٌ عَلَيهِ الضَواحِيا

وَنَقعُكَ أَخّاذٌ عَلَيهِ الضَواحِيا

You leave ignorance's dawn with its light dust-darkened,

while your dust engulfs its open, sunlit spaces,

بِيَومِ طِرادٍ يَصطَلي القَومُ تَحتَهُ

بِيَومِ طِرادٍ يَصطَلي القَومُ تَحتَهُ

بِنارِ الحَنايا وَالقَنا وَالمَواضِيا

بِنارِ الحَنايا وَالقَنا وَالمَواضِيا

on a day of pursuit when the warriors burn beneath it

in the fire of curved bows, spears, and sharp swords.

وَجُردٍ يُناقِلنَ الرِماحَ عَوابِساً

وَجُردٍ يُناقِلنَ الرِماحَ عَوابِساً

وَيَرمينَ بِالعَدوِ القَطا وَالحَوامِيا

وَيَرمينَ بِالعَدوِ القَطا وَالحَوامِيا

And sleek horses, scowling, carry the spears at a rapid stride,

flinging their haunches and hoof-edges in the gallop,

خَوارِجَ مِن ذَيلِ الغُبارِ كَأَنَّها

خَوارِجَ مِن ذَيلِ الغُبارِ كَأَنَّها

أَنامِلُ مَقرورٍ دَنا النارَ صالِيا

أَنامِلُ مَقرورٍ دَنا النارَ صالِيا

emerging from the trailing dust as though

the fingers of a chilled man approaching the fire for warmth.

بِكُلِّ سِنانٍ لا يَرى الدُرعَ جُنَّةً

بِكُلِّ سِنانٍ لا يَرى الدُرعَ جُنَّةً

وَكُلِّ حُسامٍ لا يَرى البَيضَ واقِيا

وَكُلِّ حُسامٍ لا يَرى البَيضَ واقِيا

With every spearpoint that regards no armor as a shield,

and every cutting sword that regards no helmet as protection.

وَلا سِلمَ حَتّى يَخضِبَ الحَربُ أَرضَها

وَلا سِلمَ حَتّى يَخضِبَ الحَربُ أَرضَها

وَيَغدو فَمُ البَيداءِ بِالنَقعِ راغِيا

وَيَغدو فَمُ البَيداءِ بِالنَقعِ راغِيا

There is no peace until war dyes its earth

and the desert's mouth foams with dust.

إِذا ما لَقيتَ الجَيشَ أَفنَيتَ جُلَّهُ

إِذا ما لَقيتَ الجَيشَ أَفنَيتَ جُلَّهُ

رَدىً وَرَدَدتَ القافِلينَ نَواعِيا

رَدىً وَرَدَدتَ القافِلينَ نَواعِيا

Whenever you meet an army, you destroy most of it

in death, and send those returning home back as mourners.

وَما كُلُّ مَن أَومى إِلى العِزِّ نالَهُ

وَما كُلُّ مَن أَومى إِلى العِزِّ نالَهُ

وَدونَ العُلى ضَربٌ يُدَمّي النَواصِيا

وَدونَ العُلى ضَربٌ يُدَمّي النَواصِيا

Not everyone who gestures toward honor attains it;

before high honor lie blows that bloody forelocks.

إِلى كَم أُمَنّي النَفسَ يَوماً وَليلَةً

إِلى كَم أُمَنّي النَفسَ يَوماً وَليلَةً

وَتُعلِمُني الأَيّامُ أَن لا تَلاقِيا

وَتُعلِمُني الأَيّامُ أَن لا تَلاقِيا

How long shall I feed my soul hopes, day and night,

while the days teach me that there will be no meeting?

وَكَم أَنا مَوقوفٌ عَلى كُلِّ زَفرَةٍ

وَكَم أَنا مَوقوفٌ عَلى كُلِّ زَفرَةٍ

عَليلُ جَوىً لَو أَنَّ ناساً دَوائِيا

عَليلُ جَوىً لَو أَنَّ ناساً دَوائِيا

How long am I held captive at every sigh,

sick with longing—if only certain people were my cure!

أَيَسنَحُ لي رَوضاً وَأُصبِحُ عازِباً

أَيَسنَحُ لي رَوضاً وَأُصبِحُ عازِباً

وَيَعرِضُ لي ماءً وَأُصبِحُ صادِيا

وَيَعرِضُ لي ماءً وَأُصبِحُ صادِيا

Can he appear to me as a meadow while I remain far away,

and present himself as water while I remain thirsty?

وَما أَنا إِلّا أَن أَراكَ بِقانِعٍ

وَما أَنا إِلّا أَن أَراكَ بِقانِعٍ

وَإِن كُنتَ جَرّاراً إِلَيَّ الأَعادِيا

وَإِن كُنتَ جَرّاراً إِلَيَّ الأَعادِيا

I am content with nothing but seeing you,

even if you bring the enemies swarming against me.

تَرَكتُ إِلَيكَ الناسَ طُرّاً وَكُلُّهُم

تَرَكتُ إِلَيكَ الناسَ طُرّاً وَكُلُّهُم

يَتوقُ إِلى قُربي وَيَهوى مَقامِيا

يَتوقُ إِلى قُربي وَيَهوى مَقامِيا

I left all people for you, though every one of them

yearns for my nearness and loves my presence.

وَفارَقتُ أَقواماً كِراماً أَكُفُّهُم

وَفارَقتُ أَقواماً كِراماً أَكُفُّهُم

وَما ضِقتُ عَنهُم في البِلادِ مَلاقِيا

وَما ضِقتُ عَنهُم في البِلادِ مَلاقِيا

I parted from people whose hands were generous,

nor did I lack places to meet them throughout the lands.

وَيَمنَعُني مِن عادَةِ الشِعرِ أَنَّني

وَيَمنَعُني مِن عادَةِ الشِعرِ أَنَّني

رَأَيتُ لِباسَ الذُلِّ بِالمالِ غالِيا

رَأَيتُ لِباسَ الذُلِّ بِالمالِ غالِيا

What holds me back from the customary practice of poetry is that

I found the robe of humiliation too costly for money.

إِذا لَم أَجِد بُدّاً مِنَ السَيفِ شِمتُهُ

إِذا لَم أَجِد بُدّاً مِنَ السَيفِ شِمتُهُ

وَفَقدِ ذَلولٍ أَركَبُ الصَعبَ ماشِيا

وَفَقدِ ذَلولٍ أَركَبُ الصَعبَ ماشِيا

When I find no escape from the sword, I draw it;

lacking a docile mount, I ride hardship on foot.

فَإِن كُنتُ لا أَعلو عَلى عودِ مِنبَرٍ

فَإِن كُنتُ لا أَعلو عَلى عودِ مِنبَرٍ

فَلَستُ أُلاقي غَيرَ مَجدِيَ عالِيا

فَلَستُ أُلاقي غَيرَ مَجدِيَ عالِيا

If I do not ascend the wood of a pulpit,

I encounter nothing lofty but my own glory.

عَليكَ سَلامُ اللَهِ إِنّي لَنازِعٌ

عَليكَ سَلامُ اللَهِ إِنّي لَنازِعٌ

إِلَيكَ وَإِن لَم أُعطَ مِنكَ مُرادِيا

إِلَيكَ وَإِن لَم أُعطَ مِنكَ مُرادِيا

God's peace be upon you: indeed, I am drawn

toward you, even if you have not granted my desire.

وَدُمتَ دَوامَ الشَمسِ وَالبَدرِ في الدُنا

وَدُمتَ دَوامَ الشَمسِ وَالبَدرِ في الدُنا

تُجَدِّدُ أَيّاماً وَتَنضو لَيالِيا

تُجَدِّدُ أَيّاماً وَتَنضو لَيالِيا

May you endure as the sun and full moon endure in the worlds,

renewing days and shedding nights.