حُبُّ العُلى شُغلُ قَلبٍ ما لَهُ شُغُلُ

حُبُّ العُلى شُغلُ قَلبٍ ما لَهُ شُغُلُ

وَآفَةُ الصَبِّ فيهِ اللَومُ وَالعَذَلُ

وَآفَةُ الصَبِّ فيهِ اللَومُ وَالعَذَلُ

Love of eminence occupies a heart with no other occupation.

The love of the exalted preoccupies a heart that has no preoccupation,

And the lovesick lover's bane in it is blame and reproach.

And the affliction of passion in it is blame and separation.

قالَت ضَنيتَ فَقُلتُ الشَوقُ يَجمَعُنا

قالَت ضَنيتَ فَقُلتُ الشَوقُ يَجمَعُنا

وَيَعرُقُ الوَجدُ ما لا تَعرُقُ العِلَلُ

وَيَعرُقُ الوَجدُ ما لا تَعرُقُ العِلَلُ

She said, "You have wasted away." I said, "Longing unites us,"

She said you're stingy, so I said longing brings us together,

and passion gnaws away what illnesses do not.

And fervor perspires what illnesses do not perspire.

وَإِن تَحَوَّنَ جِسمي ما عَلِمتُ بِهِ

وَإِن تَحَوَّنَ جِسمي ما عَلِمتُ بِهِ

فَالرُمحُ يَنآدُ طَوراً ثُمَّ يَعتَدِلُ

فَالرُمحُ يَنآدُ طَوراً ثُمَّ يَعتَدِلُ

And if my body has wasted away, I have not noticed it;

And if my body leans, though I did not know it,

the spear bends at times, then straightens.

The spear calls out for a while, then straightens.

كَيفَ التَخَلُّصُ مِن عَينٍ لَها عَلَقٌ

كَيفَ التَخَلُّصُ مِن عَينٍ لَها عَلَقٌ

بِالظاعِنينَ وَمِن قَلبٍ بِهِ خَبَلُ

بِالظاعِنينَ وَمِن قَلبٍ بِهِ خَبَلُ

How can I escape an eye attached

How to get rid of an eye that is attracted to the slender ones,

to the departing, and a heart possessed by madness?

And of a heart in which there is madness?

وَمَن لِوَجدِيَ أَن يَقتادَني طَمَعٌ

وَمَن لِوَجدِيَ أَن يَقتادَني طَمَعٌ

إِلى الحَبيبِ وَأَن يَعتاقَني طَلَلُ

إِلى الحَبيبِ وَأَن يَعتاقَني طَلَلُ

And who will tend my anguish, when hope leads me

And who will rein my fervor, so that greed leads me

to the beloved, while a ruined dwelling holds me back?

To the beloved, and the ruins free me?

لا تَبعَدَنَّ مَطايانا الَّتي حَمَلَت

لا تَبعَدَنَّ مَطايانا الَّتي حَمَلَت

تِلكَ الظَعائِنَ مُرخاةً لَها الجُدُلُ

تِلكَ الظَعائِنَ مُرخاةً لَها الجُدُلُ

May our mounts never go far away—the ones that carried

Do not distance our camels that carried

those women in their howdahs, their plaited reins let slack.

Those slender beauties, their plaits untied.

سَيرُ الدُموعِ على آثارِها عَنَقٌ

سَيرُ الدُموعِ على آثارِها عَنَقٌ

وَسَيرُها الوَخدُ وَالتَبغيلُ وَالرَمَلُ

وَسَيرُها الوَخدُ وَالتَبغيلُ وَالرَمَلُ

The tears' pace along their tracks is brisk,

Under the domes is chastity in their robes,

and theirs is rapid striding, mule-like pacing, and trotting.

And propriety preserves what anklets do not preserve.

دونَ القِبابِ عَفافٌ في جَلابِبِها

دونَ القِبابِ عَفافٌ في جَلابِبِها

وَالصَونُ يَحفَظُ ما لا تَحفَظُ الكِلَلُ

وَالصَونُ يَحفَظُ ما لا تَحفَظُ الكِلَلُ

Before the canopies stands chastity, wrapped in their robes,

So neither the sedan nor the face of its occupant is seen,

and modest reserve guards what curtains cannot guard.

Nor do the slender she-camels sense the voice of the lover.

فَلا الحُدوجُ يُرى وَجهُ المُقيمِ بِها

فَلا الحُدوجُ يُرى وَجهُ المُقيمِ بِها

وَلا تُحِسُّ بِصَوتِ الظاعِنِ الإِبِلُ

وَلا تُحِسُّ بِصَوتِ الظاعِنِ الإِبِلُ

So no face of the howdahs' occupant is seen,

And in the veils are gazelles bred

nor do the camels hear the departing traveler's voice.

Who glance at us with eyes whose starch is kohl.

وَفي البَراقِعِ غِزلانٌ مُرَبَّبَةٌ

وَفي البَراقِعِ غِزلانٌ مُرَبَّبَةٌ

يَرمينَنا بِعُيونٍ نَبلُها الكَحَلُ

يَرمينَنا بِعُيونٍ نَبلُها الكَحَلُ

And in the face-veils are pampered gazelles

When the beautiful carry ornaments as weapons,

who shoot at us with eyes whose arrows are kohl.

Their ornaments are generosity and amulets.

إِذا الحِسانُ حَمَلنَ الحَليَ أَسلِحَةً

إِذا الحِسانُ حَمَلنَ الحَليَ أَسلِحَةً

فَإِنَّما حَليُها الأَجيادُ وَالمُقَلُ

فَإِنَّما حَليُها الأَجيادُ وَالمُقَلُ

When beauties bear their jewelry as weapons,

But union is naught but a specter that keeps me awake,

their only jewels are their necks and eyes.

And no messages but white paper and night.

أَلا وِصالٌ سِوى طَيفٍ يُؤَرِّقُني

أَلا وِصالٌ سِوى طَيفٍ يُؤَرِّقُني

وَلا رَسائِلَ إِلّا البيضُ وَالأَسَلُ

وَلا رَسائِلَ إِلّا البيضُ وَالأَسَلُ

Is there no union except a phantom that keeps me sleepless,

And the habit of yearning is constant with me,

and no messages except bright swords and spears?

A frightened heart, a weeping eye pouring down.

وَعادَةُ الشَوقِ عِندي غَيرُ غافِلَةٍ

وَعادَةُ الشَوقِ عِندي غَيرُ غافِلَةٍ

قَلبٌ مَروعٌ وَدَمعٌ واكِفٌ هَطِلُ

قَلبٌ مَروعٌ وَدَمعٌ واكِفٌ هَطِلُ

And longing's habit in me is never heedless:

The most anguished of people is he whose loved ones turned away,

a terrified heart and tears that drip and pour.

With no embrace, no hug, no kiss.

وَأَفجَعُ الناسِ مَن وَلّى حَبائِبُهُ

وَأَفجَعُ الناسِ مَن وَلّى حَبائِبُهُ

وَلا عِناقٌ وَلا ضَمٌّ وَلا قُبَلُ

وَلا عِناقٌ وَلا ضَمٌّ وَلا قُبَلُ

And the most bereft of people is he whose loved ones depart

I have no supporter if they are unjust but my tears,

with no embrace, no clasping, and no kisses.

And tears are an aid to him who is at the end of his wits.

لا ناصِرٌ غَيرَ دَمعي إِن هُمُ ظَلَموا

لا ناصِرٌ غَيرَ دَمعي إِن هُمُ ظَلَموا

وَالدَمعُ عَونٌ لِمَن ضاقَت بِهِ الحِيَلُ

وَالدَمعُ عَونٌ لِمَن ضاقَت بِهِ الحِيَلُ

I have no helper but my tears if they wrong me,

Blame is the heaviest burden on an ear,

and tears are aid to one whose means have failed.

Yet it is light for the blamer if he blames.

وَالعَذلُ أَثقَلُ مَحمولٍ عَلى أُذُنٍ

وَالعَذلُ أَثقَلُ مَحمولٍ عَلى أُذُنٍ

وَهوَ الخَفيفُ عَلى العُذّالِ إِن عَذَلوا

وَهوَ الخَفيفُ عَلى العُذّالِ إِن عَذَلوا

And reproach is the heaviest burden upon an ear,

Who will bring me good news followed by rain?

yet it is light for the reproachers when they reproach.

And how can I have reproach after which is embarrassment?

مَن لي بِبارِقِ وَعدٍ خَلفَهُ مَطَرٌ

مَن لي بِبارِقِ وَعدٍ خَلفَهُ مَطَرٌ

وَكَيفَ لي بِعِتابٍ بَعدَهُ خَجَلُ

وَكَيفَ لي بِعِتابٍ بَعدَهُ خَجَلُ

Who will bring me the flash of a promise followed by rain?

The soul is the nearest enemy you must beware,

And how can I obtain reproach followed by shame?

And the heart is the greatest that wears out the man.

النَفسُ أَدنى عَدوٍّ أَنتَ حاذِرُهُ

النَفسُ أَدنى عَدوٍّ أَنتَ حاذِرُهُ

وَالقَلبُ أَعظَمُ ما يُبلى بِهِ الرَجُلُ

وَالقَلبُ أَعظَمُ ما يُبلى بِهِ الرَجُلُ

The self is the nearest enemy you guard against,

Love is what its pleasures are free of,

and the heart is the greatest affliction a man suffers.

Not what worries and illnesses embitter.

وَالحُبُّ ما خَلَصَت مِنهِ لَذاذَتُهُ

وَالحُبُّ ما خَلَصَت مِنهِ لَذاذَتُهُ

لا ما تُكَدِّرُهُ الأَوجاعُ وَالعِلَلُ

لا ما تُكَدِّرُهُ الأَوجاعُ وَالعِلَلُ

And love is that which yields its pleasure pure,

Sleep has accustomed my eye to leave it,

not that which pains and illnesses cloud.

And the gentle, easy pace has eased my journey.

قَد عَوَّدَ النَومُ عَيني أَن تُفارِقَهُ

قَد عَوَّدَ النَومُ عَيني أَن تُفارِقَهُ

وَهَوَّنَ السَيرَ عِندي الأَينُقُ الذُلُلُ

وَهَوَّنَ السَيرَ عِندي الأَينُقُ الذُلُلُ

Sleep has accustomed my eye to part with it,

So no abode or country has allured me,

and docile she-camels have made travel easy for me.

I am the sword, and the sword has no scabbard.

فَما تَشَبَّت بي دارٌ وَلا بَلَدٌ

فَما تَشَبَّت بي دارٌ وَلا بَلَدٌ

أَنا الحُسامُ وَما تَحظى بِهِ الخِلَلُ

أَنا الحُسامُ وَما تَحظى بِهِ الخِلَلُ

So no home or country has clung to me;

The night carries my back that you ride,

I am the keen sword, which scabbards cannot possess.

Surely the morn is a wink, and the darkness a camel.

اللَيلُ أَحمَلُ ظَهرٍ أَنتَ راكِبُهُ

اللَيلُ أَحمَلُ ظَهرٍ أَنتَ راكِبُهُ

إِنَّ الصَباحَ لَطِرفٌ وَالدُجى جَمَلُ

إِنَّ الصَباحَ لَطِرفٌ وَالدُجى جَمَلُ

Night is the most enduring back you can ride;

Youth has passed, and this white hair chases it away,

dawn is indeed a steed, and darkness a camel.

The fugitive ransoms the stringent pursuer.

وَلّى الشَبابُ وَهَذا الشَيبُ يَطرُدُهُ

وَلّى الشَبابُ وَهَذا الشَيبُ يَطرُدُهُ

يَفدي الطَريدَةَ ذاكَ الطارِدُ العَجِلُ

يَفدي الطَريدَةَ ذاكَ الطارِدُ العَجِلُ

Youth has fled, and this gray hair pursues it;

White hair settles on my head not as a guest

may that hasty pursuer ransom the pursued!

Leaving me, though I know I am leaving it.

ما نازِلُ الشَيبِ في رَأسي بِمُرتَحِلٍ

ما نازِلُ الشَيبِ في رَأسي بِمُرتَحِلٍ

عَنّي وَأَعلَمُ أَنّي عَنهُ مُرتَحِلُ

عَنّي وَأَعلَمُ أَنّي عَنهُ مُرتَحِلُ

The gray hair lodged in my head will not depart

He who is not warned by the whiteness of hair will overtake him,

from me, though I know I shall depart from it.

In folly, his fate and term catch him.

مَن لَم يَعِظهُ بَياضُ الشَعرِ أَدرَكَهُ

مَن لَم يَعِظهُ بَياضُ الشَعرِ أَدرَكَهُ

في غِرَّةٍ حَتفُهُ المَقدورُ وَالأَجَلُ

في غِرَّةٍ حَتفُهُ المَقدورُ وَالأَجَلُ

Whoever is not admonished by the whiteness of his hair is overtaken

He who has missed the arrows of death, long years fetter him,

unawares by his decreed death and appointed end.

So he has no frivolity or youth.

مَن أَخطَأَتهُ سِهامُ المَوتِ قَيَّدَهُ

مَن أَخطَأَتهُ سِهامُ المَوتِ قَيَّدَهُ

طولُ السِنينَ فَلا لَهوٌ وَلا جَذَلُ

طولُ السِنينَ فَلا لَهوٌ وَلا جَذَلُ

Whomever death's arrows miss is bound

And from himself has narrowed what was capacious,

by the length of years: no amusement and no joy.

Even hope, resolve, and aspiration.

وَضاقَ مِن نَفسِهِ ما كانَ مُتَّسِعاً

وَضاقَ مِن نَفسِهِ ما كانَ مُتَّسِعاً

حَتّى الرَجاءُ وَحَتّى العَزمُ وَالأَمَلُ

حَتّى الرَجاءُ وَحَتّى العَزمُ وَالأَمَلُ

And what was spacious within his soul grows narrow,

Never did my chastity prevent me from passion one day,

even hope, even resolve and aspiration.

That my palm would be chaste from the bending staff.

ما عِفَّتي في الهَوى يَوماً بِمانِعَتي

ما عِفَّتي في الهَوى يَوماً بِمانِعَتي

أَن لا تَعِفَّ بِكَفِّيَ القَنا الذُبُلُ

أَن لا تَعِفَّ بِكَفِّيَ القَنا الذُبُلُ

My chastity in love never prevents me

And men have sayings, and the best of them

from letting the slender spears in my hand be unchaste.

Is what spending refines, not what stinginess refines.

وَلِلرِجالِ أَحاديثٌ فَأَحسَنُها

وَلِلرِجالِ أَحاديثٌ فَأَحسَنُها

ما نَمَّقَ الجودُ لا ما نَمَّقَ البَخَلُ

ما نَمَّقَ الجودُ لا ما نَمَّقَ البَخَلُ

And men have their stories; the finest of them

Nor did plunging into raids save me from death,

are those adorned by generosity, not those adorned by stinginess.

Neither caution nor haste.

وَلا اِقتِحامي عَلى الغاراتِ يَعصِمُني

وَلا اِقتِحامي عَلى الغاراتِ يَعصِمُني

مِنَ المَنونِ وَلا رَيثٌ وَلا عَجَلُ

مِنَ المَنونِ وَلا رَيثٌ وَلا عَجَلُ

My plunging into raids does not shield me

And my death in determination and kinship is one,

from death; neither does delay nor haste.

When destinations and paths are equal.

وَميتَتي في النَوى وَالقُربِ واحِدَةٌ

وَميتَتي في النَوى وَالقُربِ واحِدَةٌ

إِذا تَكافَأَتِ الغاياتُ وَالسُبُلُ

إِذا تَكافَأَتِ الغاياتُ وَالسُبُلُ

My death in distance and nearness is one and the same,

My sight feels delighted the day I mount it,

if the ends and the paths are alike.

As if it is wearing the stars of the night.

يَستَشعِرُ الطِرفُ زَهواً يَومَ أَركَبُهُ

يَستَشعِرُ الطِرفُ زَهواً يَومَ أَركَبُهُ

كَأَنَّهُ بِنُجومِ اللَيلِ مُنتَعِلُ

كَأَنَّهُ بِنُجومِ اللَيلِ مُنتَعِلُ

The steed feels pride when I ride him,

And horses hint what is above their backs

as though he were shod with the stars of night.

Of men, whether coward or hero.

وَالخَيلُ عالِمَةٌ ما فَوقَ أَظهُرِها

وَالخَيلُ عالِمَةٌ ما فَوقَ أَظهُرِها

مِنَ الرِجالِ جَبانٌ كانَ أَو بَطَلُ

مِنَ الرِجالِ جَبانٌ كانَ أَو بَطَلُ

And horses know who is upon their backs

Deepest dark the color of night is his color,

among men, whether coward or hero.

Glances and gazes go astray in his creation.

أَغَرُّ أَدهَمُ صِبغُ اللَيلِ صِبغَتُهُ

أَغَرُّ أَدهَمُ صِبغُ اللَيلِ صِبغَتُهُ

تَضَلُّ في خَلقِهِ الأَلحاظُ وَالمُقَلُ

تَضَلُّ في خَلقِهِ الأَلحاظُ وَالمُقَلُ

White-blazed and black, his hue is the hue of night;

Galloping with the wind holding his rein,

glances and eyes lose their way in his form.

As if he is an ember or lightning flash.

مُناقِلٌ في عِنانِ الريحِ جَريَتُهُ

مُناقِلٌ في عِنانِ الريحِ جَريَتُهُ

كَأَنَّهُ قَبَسٌ أَو بارِقٌ عَمِلُ

كَأَنَّهُ قَبَسٌ أَو بارِقٌ عَمِلُ

Swift-stepping, his gallop is in the wind's reins,

Brief is what is between his beginning and his end,

as though he were a firebrand or ceaseless lightning.

As if his neck is tied with a knot to his throat.

قَصيرُ ما بَينَ أولاهُ وَآخِرِهِ

قَصيرُ ما بَينَ أولاهُ وَآخِرِهِ

كَأَنَّما العُنقُ مَعقودٌ بِها الكَفَلُ

كَأَنَّما العُنقُ مَعقودٌ بِها الكَفَلُ

Short is the distance between his forepart and his hindpart,

When the spring clothes the white land with its robe,

as though his croup were fastened to his neck.

My stirrups and the earth’s expanse and hills narrow.

إِذا الرَبيعُ كَسا البَيداءَ بُردَتَهُ

إِذا الرَبيعُ كَسا البَيداءَ بُردَتَهُ

ضاقَت رِكابي وِهادُ الأَرضِ وَالقُلَلُ

ضاقَت رِكابي وِهادُ الأَرضِ وَالقُلَلُ

When spring clothes the wilderness in its cloak,

And the waters of the valley flowing abundantly,

the earth's hollows and summits grow too narrow for my mounts.

On its banks foxgloves and droplets.

وَالوارِداتُ مِياهَ القاعِ سانِحَةٌ

وَالوارِداتُ مِياهَ القاعِ سانِحَةٌ

عَلى جَوانِبِها الحَوذانُ وَالنَفَلُ

عَلى جَوانِبِها الحَوذانُ وَالنَفَلُ

And the mounts approach the plain's waters, where appear

And its plains when the sun of day sets

along their banks buttercups and clover.

And sheds its color, like frontiers.

وَكَالثُغورِ أَقاحيها إِذا غَرَبَت

وَكَالثُغورِ أَقاحيها إِذا غَرَبَت

شَمسُ النَهارِ وَأَلقَت صِبغَها الأُصُلُ

شَمسُ النَهارِ وَأَلقَت صِبغَها الأُصُلُ

And its daisies resemble mouths when there sinks

A meadow and pasture, if his hooves desire,

the day's sun, and the evenings cast their hue.

Brought together, with no trouble or toil.

وِردٌ وَمَرعىً إِذا شاءَت مَشافِرُها

وِردٌ وَمَرعىً إِذا شاءَت مَشافِرُها

مُستَجمِعانِ وَلا كَدٌّ وَلا عَمَلُ

مُستَجمِعانِ وَلا كَدٌّ وَلا عَمَلُ

Water and pasture, whenever their lips desire,

Oblivious to the supreme, their leader

are found together, with no toil and no labor.

In every valley a rash youth made drunk.

وَغافِلينَ عَنِ العَلياءِ قائِدُهُم

وَغافِلينَ عَنِ العَلياءِ قائِدُهُم

في كُلِّ غَيٍّ فَتيُّ العَقلِ مُكتَهِلُ

في كُلِّ غَيٍّ فَتيُّ العَقلِ مُكتَهِلُ

And men heedless of high honor, whose leader

They eschewed gray hair fearing its reproof,

in every folly is boyish in mind though middle-aged,

Or its alienating them from youth.

شَنّوا الخِضابَ حِذاراً أَن يُطالِبَهُم

شَنّوا الخِضابَ حِذاراً أَن يُطالِبَهُم

بِحِلمِهِ الشَيبُ أَو يُقصيهِمُ الغَزَلُ

بِحِلمِهِ الشَيبُ أَو يُقصيهِمُ الغَزَلُ

poured on dye, fearing that they would be asked

Bare except for indecency, their garb of ignorance shrouds them,

by gray hair for its forbearance, or cast out by flirtation.

No robes or gowns cover them.

عارينَ إِلّا مِنَ الفَحشاءِ يَستُرُهُم

عارينَ إِلّا مِنَ الفَحشاءِ يَستُرُهُم

ثَوبُ الخُمولِ وَتَنبو عَنهُمُ الحُلَلُ

ثَوبُ الخُمولِ وَتَنبو عَنهُمُ الحُلَلُ

Naked except for obscenity, they are covered

A people deaf to my words, on them is deafness,

by the robe of obscurity, while fine garments recoil from them.

And blind to my sight, on them is blindness.

قَومٌ بِأَسماعِهِم عَن مَنطِقي صَمَمٌ

قَومٌ بِأَسماعِهِم عَن مَنطِقي صَمَمٌ

وَفي لَواحِظِهِم عَن مَنظَري قَبَلُ

وَفي لَواحِظِهِم عَن مَنظَري قَبَلُ

A people whose ears are deaf to my speech,

They scatter when I come near their glances

and whose eyes squint away from the sight of me.

Like the startled, confused and perplexed.

يُبَدِّدونَ إِذا أَقبَلتُ لَحظَهُمُ

يُبَدِّدونَ إِذا أَقبَلتُ لَحظَهُمُ

شُربَ المُرَوَّعِ لا عَلٌّ وَلا نَهَلُ

شُربَ المُرَوَّعِ لا عَلٌّ وَلا نَهَلُ

They scatter their glances when I approach,

They show me affection and guard me with their wealth,

like a frightened drinker's sips: neither a second draught nor a first.

If it were true, fortune would be equal between us.

يُبدونَ وُدّي وَيَحموني ثَراءَهُمُ

يُبدونَ وُدّي وَيَحموني ثَراءَهُمُ

لَو كانَ حَقّاً تَساوَت بَينَنا الدُوَلُ

لَو كانَ حَقّاً تَساوَت بَينَنا الدُوَلُ

They display affection for me, yet deny me their wealth;

It's enough for my envious enemies that he is a man

were it true, fortune's turns would be shared equally between us.

Whom anxiety has tempted since contention tempted me.

كَفى حَسودِيَ كَبتاً أَنَّهُ رَجُلٌ

كَفى حَسودِيَ كَبتاً أَنَّهُ رَجُلٌ

أَغرى بِهِ الهَمُّ مُذ أَغرى بِيَ الجَدَلُ

أَغرى بِهِ الهَمُّ مُذ أَغرى بِيَ الجَدَلُ

Enough humiliation for my envier that he is a man

Why is my poetry blamed, it does not neglect

whom worry has beset since contention beset me.

All that words and deeds require?

ما بالُ شِعري مَلوماً لا يُجانِبُهُ

ما بالُ شِعري مَلوماً لا يُجانِبُهُ

عَن كُلِّ ما يَقتَضيهِ القَولُ وَالعَمَلُ

عَن كُلِّ ما يَقتَضيهِ القَولُ وَالعَمَلُ

Why is my poetry censured, with censure never leaving it

I have no need of wealth to worship it,

over all that speech and action require?

For it hope and work weary me.

لا حاجَةٌ بي إِلى مالٍ يُعَبِّدُني

لا حاجَةٌ بي إِلى مالٍ يُعَبِّدُني

لَهُ الرَجاءُ وَيُضنيني بِهِ الشَغَلُ

لَهُ الرَجاءُ وَيُضنيني بِهِ الشَغَلُ

I have no need of wealth that makes me a slave

Enough is the wealth of my enduring soul, and all wealth

to it through hope, and wears me thin with its pursuit.

From spoils and possessions passes on.

حَسبي غِنى نَفسِيَ الباقي وَكُلُّ غِنىً

حَسبي غِنى نَفسِيَ الباقي وَكُلُّ غِنىً

مِنَ المَغانِمِ وَالأَموالِ يَنتَقِلُ

مِنَ المَغانِمِ وَالأَموالِ يَنتَقِلُ

My soul's enduring richness is enough for me, and all wealth

People changed in hearing and in sight,

from spoils and riches changes hands.

And betrayal was deemed good until loyalty was deemed defective.

تَغَيَّرَ الناسُ في سَمعٍ وَفي نَظَرٍ

تَغَيَّرَ الناسُ في سَمعٍ وَفي نَظَرٍ

وَاِستُحسِنَ الغَدرُ حَتّى اِستُقبِحَ الخِلَلُ

وَاِستُحسِنَ الغَدرُ حَتّى اِستُقبِحَ الخِلَلُ

People have changed in hearing and in sight,

So do not seek out a man to befriend

and treachery has been deemed good until virtues are deemed ugly.

Whom all people do not desire any more than a fool.

فَما طِلابُكَ إِنساناً تُصاحِبُهُ

فَما طِلابُكَ إِنساناً تُصاحِبُهُ

كُلُّ الأَنامِ كَما لا تَشتَهي هَمَلُ

كُلُّ الأَنامِ كَما لا تَشتَهي هَمَلُ

Why, then, seek a person to befriend?

They are gladdened when their bodies are healthy,

All mankind is, as you would not wish, an untended herd.

And if you examine their minds, defects.

يَستَبشِرونَ إِذا صَحَّت جُسومُهُمُ

يَستَبشِرونَ إِذا صَحَّت جُسومُهُمُ

وَبِالعُقولِ إِذا فَتَّشتَها عِلَلُ

وَبِالعُقولِ إِذا فَتَّشتَها عِلَلُ

They rejoice when their bodies are healthy,

Only enmity rouses me, and I am to it

yet, if you examine their minds, there are ailments.

The heaven whose ground is the hills.

ما هَيَّجَتني العِدا إِلّا وَكُنتُ لَها

ما هَيَّجَتني العِدا إِلّا وَكُنتُ لَها

سَماءَ كُلِّ جَوادٍ أَرضُهُ القُلَلُ

سَماءَ كُلِّ جَوادٍ أَرضُهُ القُلَلُ

Never have enemies provoked me without my becoming for them

My sword walks in their heads,

a sky over every noble steed whose ground is the summits.

And my spear pierces what coats of mail protect.

يَمشي الحُسامُ بِكَفّي في رُؤوسِهِمُ

يَمشي الحُسامُ بِكَفّي في رُؤوسِهِمُ

وَيَخرُقُ الرُمحُ ما تَعيا بِهِ الفُتُلُ

وَيَخرُقُ الرُمحُ ما تَعيا بِهِ الفُتُلُ

The keen sword in my hand walks through their heads,

My people are people, not an equal generation,

and the spear pierces what stout-limbed camels cannot traverse.

Generosity with them is shameful if they are asked.

قَومي هُمُ الناسُ لا جيلٌ سَواسِيَةٌ

قَومي هُمُ الناسُ لا جيلٌ سَواسِيَةٌ

الجودُ عِندَهُمُ عارٌ إِذا سُئِلوا

الجودُ عِندَهُمُ عارٌ إِذا سُئِلوا

My people are the true people, not an undistinguished breed;

My father is the executor, and my mother the best mother,

generosity is a disgrace among them if they are asked for it.

The daughter of the Messenger, after whom there were no messengers.

أَبي الوَصيُّ وَأُمّي خَيرُ والِدَةٍ

أَبي الوَصيُّ وَأُمّي خَيرُ والِدَةٍ

بِنتُ الرَسولِ الَّذي ما بَعدَهُ رُسُلُ

بِنتُ الرَسولِ الَّذي ما بَعدَهُ رُسُلُ

My father is the Legatee, and my mother the best of mothers,

And where is a people like my people, if you ask them

the daughter of the Messenger after whom there are no messengers.

About the racers on the day of battle, they descend,

وَأَينَ قَومٌ كَقَومي إِن سَأَلتَهُمُ

وَأَينَ قَومٌ كَقَومي إِن سَأَلتَهُمُ

سَوابِقَ الخَيلِ في يَومِ الوَغى نَزَلوا

سَوابِقَ الخَيلِ في يَومِ الوَغى نَزَلوا

And where is a people like mine? If you ask them

Like the rock, if they are forbearing, and the fire, if enraged,

for their swiftest horses on battle-day, they dismount.

And the lion, if they ride, and affliction, if they give.

كَالصَخرِ إِن حَلُموا وَالنارِ إِن غَضِبوا

كَالصَخرِ إِن حَلُموا وَالنارِ إِن غَضِبوا

وَالأُسدِ إِن رَكِبوا وَالوَبلِ إِن بَذَلوا

وَالأُسدِ إِن رَكِبوا وَالوَبلِ إِن بَذَلوا

Like rock when forbearing, and fire when enraged,

The assailants of the tyrant, his death

and lions when mounted, and downpours when giving.

Their lowered spear points trailing.

الطاعِنينَ مِنَ الجَبّارِ مَقتَلَهُ

الطاعِنينَ مِنَ الجَبّارِ مَقتَلَهُ

وَالضارِبينَ وَذَيلُ النَقعِ مُنسَدِلُ

وَالضارِبينَ وَذَيلُ النَقعِ مُنسَدِلُ

Those who spear the tyrant in his fatal spot,

And the riders of horses and steeds together,

and strike while the train of dust hangs down,

Neither figure restrains them one day, nor mind.

وَالراكِبينَ المَطايا وَالجِيادَ مَعاً

وَالراكِبينَ المَطايا وَالجِيادَ مَعاً

لا الشَكلُ تَحبِسُها يَوماً وَلا العُقُلُ

لا الشَكلُ تَحبِسُها يَوماً وَلا العُقُلُ

and ride camels and noble steeds alike,

The eyes of enemies are blinded by their spears,

which neither fetters nor hobbles ever hold.

And for tongues among them eyes of youths.

تُغضي عُيونُ الأَعادي عَن رِماحِهِمُ

تُغضي عُيونُ الأَعادي عَن رِماحِهِمُ

وَلِلأَسِنَّةِ فيهِم أَعيُنٌ نُجُلُ

وَلِلأَسِنَّةِ فيهِم أَعيُنٌ نُجُلُ

The enemies' eyes lower before their spears,

There is no return to the world by agreement,

while the spearheads have wide eyes within them.

Nor return for him who passes away with his term.

لَيسَ المَعادُ إِلى الدُنيا بِمُتَّفِقٍ

لَيسَ المَعادُ إِلى الدُنيا بِمُتَّفِقٍ

وَلا رُجوعٌ لِمَن يَمضي بِهِ الأَجَلُ

وَلا رُجوعٌ لِمَن يَمضي بِهِ الأَجَلُ

Return to this world is not possible,

And God is the most gracious Master I hope for

nor return for one whom death carries away.

One day, and the Greatest Giver and Asked.

وَاللَهُ أَكرَمُ مَولَىً أَنتَ آمِلُهُ

وَاللَهُ أَكرَمُ مَولَىً أَنتَ آمِلُهُ

يَوماً وَأَعظَمُ مَن يُعطي ومَن يَسَلُ

يَوماً وَأَعظَمُ مَن يُعطي ومَن يَسَلُ

And God is the most generous lord you hope for

Pardoning, Forbearing, Benevolent, Capable,

someday, and greater than any giver or petitioner.

Answering prayers, Giving, Forbearing.

عَفوٌ وَحِلمٌ وَنَعماءٌ وَمَقدِرَةٌ

عَفوٌ وَحِلمٌ وَنَعماءٌ وَمَقدِرَةٌ

وَمُستَجيبٌ وَمِعطاءٌ وَمُحتَمِلُ

وَمُستَجيبٌ وَمِعطاءٌ وَمُحتَمِلُ

Pardon, forbearance, bounty, and power,

And how can we hope that life remains for us

and responsive, lavish in giving, and tolerant.

When our early days do not come back?

وَكَيفَ نَأمُلُ أَن تَبقى الحَياةُ لَنا

وَكَيفَ نَأمُلُ أَن تَبقى الحَياةُ لَنا

وَغَيرُ راجِعَةٍ أَيّامُنا الأُوَلُ

وَغَيرُ راجِعَةٍ أَيّامُنا الأُوَلُ

And how can we hope that life will remain ours,

when our earliest days do not return?