أَمِن ذِكرِ فارٍ بِالمُصَلّى إِلى مِنىً

أَمِن ذِكرِ فارٍ بِالمُصَلّى إِلى مِنىً

تُعادُ كَما عيدَ السَليمُ المُؤَرَّقُ

تُعادُ كَما عيدَ السَليمُ المُؤَرَّقُ

Is it from remembering one fleeing through al-Musalla toward Mina

Is it from the mention of one who halted at al-Muṣallá going to Miná,

that you are visited like a sleepless man bitten by a snake,

That grief should be renewed, like the greeting of a sleepless one worn out with care;

حَنيناً إِلَيها وَاِلتِواءً مِنَ الجَوى

حَنيناً إِلَيها وَاِلتِواءً مِنَ الجَوى

كَأَنَّكَ في الحَيِّ الوَلودُ المُطَرِّقُ

كَأَنَّكَ في الحَيِّ الوَلودُ المُطَرِّقُ

yearning for her and writhing with love's anguish,

Yearning for it and twisting because of the heat of love,

as though, among the tribe, you were a mother in difficult labor?

As if you were the young camel kneeling, with eagerness?

أَأَللَهُ إِنّي إِن مَرَرتُ بِأَرضِها

أَأَللَهُ إِنّي إِن مَرَرتُ بِأَرضِها

فُؤادِيَ مَأسورٌ وَدَمعِيَ مُطلَقُ

فُؤادِيَ مَأسورٌ وَدَمعِيَ مُطلَقُ

O God, truly, if I pass through her land,

O God, if I pass by her abode

my heart is captive, while my tears run free.

my heart is a captive and my tears flow;

أَكُرُّ إِلَيها الطَرفَ ثُمَّ أَرُدُّهُ

أَكُرُّ إِلَيها الطَرفَ ثُمَّ أَرُدُّهُ

بِإِنسانِ عَينٍ في صَرى الدَمعِ يَغرَقُ

بِإِنسانِ عَينٍ في صَرى الدَمعِ يَغرَقُ

I turn my gaze back toward her, then withdraw it,

I turn my eyes towards it, then I turn them away,

with the pupil of my eye drowning in pooled tears.

A man whose eyes overflow with tears.

هَوايَ يَمانٍ كَيفَ لا كَيفَ نَلتَقي

هَوايَ يَمانٍ كَيفَ لا كَيفَ نَلتَقي

وَرَكبِيَ مُنقادُ القَرينَةِ مُعرِقُ

وَرَكبِيَ مُنقادُ القَرينَةِ مُعرِقُ

My love is Yemeni—how could I not yearn? How can we meet,

My passion for Yaman - how, no how can we meet,

while my caravan, readily led, heads toward Iraq?

When my riding-beast is guided by the bridle?

فَواهاً مِنَ الرَبعِ الَّذي غَيَّرَ البِلى

فَواهاً مِنَ الرَبعِ الَّذي غَيَّرَ البِلى

وَآهاً عَلى القَومِ الَّذينَ تَفَرَّقوا

وَآهاً عَلى القَومِ الَّذينَ تَفَرَّقوا

Ah, for the encampment that decay has changed,

Woe for the encampment which has changed through decay,

and alas for the people who have scattered!

And woe for the people who have become dispersed!

أَصونُ تُرابَ الأَرضِ كانوا حُلولُها

أَصونُ تُرابَ الأَرضِ كانوا حُلولُها

وَأَحذَرُ مِن مَرّي عَلَيها وَأُشفِقُ

وَأَحذَرُ مِن مَرّي عَلَيها وَأُشفِقُ

I guard the dust of the land where they once dwelt,

I guard the dust of the earth where they lodged,

and fear to pass over it, anxious for it.

And am wary of treading on it, and careful;

وَلَم يَبقَ عِندي لِلهَوى غَيرَ أَنَّني

وَلَم يَبقَ عِندي لِلهَوى غَيرَ أَنَّني

إِذا الرَكبُ مَرّوا بي عَلى الدارِ أَشهَقُ

إِذا الرَكبُ مَرّوا بي عَلى الدارِ أَشهَقُ

And nothing of love remains with me except this:

And there remains with me, for love, naught but that whenever

when the caravan takes me past the dwelling, I gasp.

The caravan passes by me, I sigh.