أَأَبجَرُ هَل لِهَذا اللَيلِ صُبحُ

أَأَبجَرُ هَل لِهَذا اللَيلِ صُبحُ

وَهَل بِوِصالِ مَن أَحبَبتُ نُصحُ

وَهَل بِوِصالِ مَن أَحبَبتُ نُصحُ

O Abjar, is there a dawn for this night?

Do I see the dawn for this night,

And is there sincerity in union with the one I love?

Or the fulfillment of one I've loved as solace?

أَأَبجَرُ قَد هَويتُ فَلا تَلُمني

أَأَبجَرُ قَد هَويتُ فَلا تَلُمني

عَلى كَبِدي مِنَ الهِجرانِ قُرحُ

عَلى كَبِدي مِنَ الهِجرانِ قُرحُ

O Abjar, I have fallen in love, so do not blame me.

Do I see - for I've fallen in love, so blame me not

My liver bears a wound from separation.

For the wounds of yearning that mar my liver.

جَرى دَمعي فَأَخبَرَ عَن ضَميرٍ

جَرى دَمعي فَأَخبَرَ عَن ضَميرٍ

كَجاري المِسكِ دَلَّ عَلَيهِ نَفحُ

كَجاري المِسكِ دَلَّ عَلَيهِ نَفحُ

My tears flowed and revealed a hidden feeling,

My tears flowed and exposed the feelings

As flowing musk is revealed by a waft of scent.

Hidden within, like the scent of musk exudes from its pod,

كَأَنّي يَومَ سارَ بَنو يَزيدٍ

كَأَنّي يَومَ سارَ بَنو يَزيدٍ

يَؤُمُّ دَليلُهُم بُصرى وَيَنحو

يَؤُمُّ دَليلُهُم بُصرى وَيَنحو

It was as though, on the day the sons of Yazid departed,

As if I were with the Bani Yazid the day they departed,

Their guide making for Bosra and heading that way,

Guided by their guide towards Busra, inclined away.

خَرَجتُ بِنَشوَةٍ مِن بَيتِ رَأسٍ

خَرَجتُ بِنَشوَةٍ مِن بَيتِ رَأسٍ

تَدورُ بِهامَتي وَالطَرفُ طَمحُ

تَدورُ بِهامَتي وَالطَرفُ طَمحُ

I had left Bayt Ra's in a drunken haze,

I set out impetuously from the house of Rass,

With it swirling about my head, my gaze cast far afield.

My glance circulating as the pleiades circle in their orbit.

أَسائِلُ أَينَ سارَ بَنو يَزيدٍ

أَسائِلُ أَينَ سارَ بَنو يَزيدٍ

وَعِندي مِنهُم الخَبَرُ المِصَحُّ

وَعِندي مِنهُم الخَبَرُ المِصَحُّ

I keep asking where the sons of Yazid went,

"Where did the Bani Yazid go?" I ask,

Though I have reliable news of them.

When the true news has reached me.

أَأَبجَرُ هَل تَرى بِالنَقبِ عيراً

أَأَبجَرُ هَل تَرى بِالنَقبِ عيراً

تَميلُ كَأَنَّها سَلَمٌ وَطَلحُ

تَميلُ كَأَنَّها سَلَمٌ وَطَلحُ

O Abjar, do you see a caravan at al-Naqb,

Do I see, in the pass, a caravan inclining

Swaying as though it were salam and talh acacias?

Like a ladder or stalks of talh wood?

خَرَجنَ عَلى النَقا مُتَواتِراتٍ

خَرَجنَ عَلى النَقا مُتَواتِراتٍ

نَواعِبَ في السَرابِ لَهُنَّ شَبحُ

نَواعِبَ في السَرابِ لَهُنَّ شَبحُ

They emerged upon the dune, one after another,

Beauties emerged in the mirage, appearing and disappearing,

Striding swiftly in the mirage, their silhouettes showing.

Phantoms dancing for them in the quivering air.

فَواعَجَبا صَفَوتُ لِغَيرِ صافٍ

فَواعَجَبا صَفَوتُ لِغَيرِ صافٍ

وَأَعطَيتُ الكَريمَةَ مَن يَشِحُّ

وَأَعطَيتُ الكَريمَةَ مَن يَشِحُّ

So, how strange! I was sincere toward one who was not,

And so I was amazed at an unworthy man,

And gave what was precious to one who is miserly.

And gave the noble maiden to a miser.

وَذي مالٍ وَلَيسَ بِذي غَناءٍ

وَذي مالٍ وَلَيسَ بِذي غَناءٍ

كَزُبِّ الشَيخِ لا يَعلوهُ نَضحُ

كَزُبِّ الشَيخِ لا يَعلوهُ نَضحُ

And a man of wealth, yet of no use,

A rich man, but with no spirit of generosity -

Like an old man's cock, with no spurt rising above it.

Like the hide of an old goat that cannot be tanned.

صَبَرتُ عَلَيهِ حَتّى بانَ فَسلاً

صَبَرتُ عَلَيهِ حَتّى بانَ فَسلاً

كَأَنَّ إِخاءَهُ خُبزٌ وَمِلحُ

كَأَنَّ إِخاءَهُ خُبزٌ وَمِلحُ

I bore with him until he proved worthless,

I was patient with him until his vileness appeared,

As though his friendship were bread and salt.

His brotherhood seeming but bread and salt.

وَفَيّاضِ اليَدَينِ عَلى المَوالي

وَفَيّاضِ اليَدَينِ عَلى المَوالي

لَهُ فَضلٌ يُعاشُ بِهِ وَمَنحُ

لَهُ فَضلٌ يُعاشُ بِهِ وَمَنحُ

And one whose two hands pour bounty upon his clients,

One who butters up chiefs, yet is generous at hand

He has bounty one can live on, and gifts.

To me with praise, and bounty to him.

مِنَ المُتَحَرِّفينَ يَداً وَجوداً

مِنَ المُتَحَرِّفينَ يَداً وَجوداً

عَلَيَّ مَديحُهُ وَعَلَيهِ نُجحُ

عَلَيَّ مَديحُهُ وَعَلَيهِ نُجحُ

Among those whose calling is open-handed generosity;

He brought me his affection and money,

His praise is my duty, and fulfillment is his.

And made me a client; and some of the Nile's flooding is profit.

أَتاني وُدُّهُ خَدَماً وَمالاً

أَتاني وُدُّهُ خَدَماً وَمالاً

وَعَيَّلَني وَبَعضُ النَيلِ وَتحُ

وَعَيَّلَني وَبَعضُ النَيلِ وَتحُ

His goodwill came to me as servants and wealth,

So much for him; but say of Umm Bakr -

And gave me a household; some gifts are paltry.

I see she does not give, and I do not complain;

مَضى هَذا فَقُل في أُمِّ بَكرٍ

مَضى هَذا فَقُل في أُمِّ بَكرٍ

أَراها لا تَجودُ وَلَستُ أَصحو

أَراها لا تَجودُ وَلَستُ أَصحو

That is past; now speak of Umm Bakr.

I saw an apparition of her in the sand,

I see she is not generous, yet I do not sober up.

And to see whom you love brings well-being.

رَأَيتُ لَها عَلى الرَوحاءِ طَيفاً

رَأَيتُ لَها عَلى الرَوحاءِ طَيفاً

وَرُؤيَةُ مَن تُحِبُّ عَلَيهِ صُلحُ

وَرُؤيَةُ مَن تُحِبُّ عَلَيهِ صُلحُ

I saw her apparition at al-Rawha',

And the day I met her at my cistern

And seeing one you love brings reconciliation with them.

Was like driving cattle to be watered at an old well.

وَيَومَ لَقيتُها بِجِنابِ حَوضى

وَيَومَ لَقيتُها بِجِنابِ حَوضى

كَعَضبِ العيرِ سيقَ إِلَيهِ رِبحُ

كَعَضبِ العيرِ سيقَ إِلَيهِ رِبحُ

And the day I met her near Hawda—

Questions concerning Umm Bakr come in waves -

Like a vigorous wild ass to which a monkey was driven.

She wins, and the flagon circulates to you.

تَتابَعَتِ الثَوائِجُ لِاِمِّ بَكرٍ

تَتابَعَتِ الثَوائِجُ لِاِمِّ بَكرٍ

تَفوزُ بِها وَحالَ عَلَيكَ قَدحُ

تَفوزُ بِها وَحالَ عَلَيكَ قَدحُ

Bleating beasts came in succession to Umm Bakr;

When I wish, anxiety from the departed settles on me,

She wins them, while a lot-arrow has turned against you.

Or a disturbing bout of passion.

إِذا ما شِئتُ راحَ عَلَيَّ هَمٌّ

إِذا ما شِئتُ راحَ عَلَيَّ هَمٌّ

مِنَ الغادينَ أَو طَرَبٌ مُلِحُّ

مِنَ الغادينَ أَو طَرَبٌ مُلِحُّ

Whenever I wish, sorrow comes upon me at evening—

And they said, "If only you would pardon the Christians!"

From those departing at dawn—or relentless yearning.

By God, you have no pardon for your brother!

وَقالوا لَو صَفَحتَ عَنِ النَصارى

وَقالوا لَو صَفَحتَ عَنِ النَصارى

وَلا وَاللَهِ ما بِأَخيكَ صَفحُ

وَلا وَاللَهِ ما بِأَخيكَ صَفحُ

And they said, 'If only you would forgive the Christians!'

I yearn for the charms of Umm Bakr,

And no, by God—your brother has no forgiveness in him.

And without seeing her, long widowhood and marriage!

أَحِنُّ إِلى مَحاسِنِ أُمِّ بَكرٍ

أَحِنُّ إِلى مَحاسِنِ أُمِّ بَكرٍ

وَدونَ لِقائِها دُكحٌ وَنُكحُ

وَدونَ لِقائِها دُكحٌ وَنُكحُ

I yearn for the beauties of Umm Bakr,

I control myself; final events do not alarm me,

But burly men and lechers stand between me and meeting her,

Nor does the inherited death-pall make me blench.

وَأَضبَطُ لا تُوَزِّعُهُ المَنايا

وَأَضبَطُ لا تُوَزِّعُهُ المَنايا

أَبَلَّ مُشَيَّعٌ بِالمَوتِ سَمحُ

أَبَلَّ مُشَيَّعٌ بِالمَوتِ سَمحُ

And a strong-gripped one whom deaths cannot restrain,

Be proud and scornful, not like Ibn Nihya

Unyielding and intrepid, generous with death.

Whose spear does not avail his spear thrust.

تَعَزَّ وَلا تَكُن مِثلَ اِبنِ نِهيا

تَعَزَّ وَلا تَكُن مِثلَ اِبنِ نِهيا

لَهُ رُمحٌ وَلا يُغنيهِ رُمحُ

لَهُ رُمحٌ وَلا يُغنيهِ رُمحُ

Console yourself, and do not be like Ibn Nihya:

Hammād ibn Nihya blames grey hairs,

He has a spear, but a spear does him no good.

Yet earns no praise from the youths.

يَذُمُّ الشَيبَ حَمّادُ بنُ نِهيا

يَذُمُّ الشَيبَ حَمّادُ بنُ نِهيا

وَلَيسَ لَهُ مِنَ الشُبّانِ مَدحُ

وَلَيسَ لَهُ مِنَ الشُبّانِ مَدحُ

Hammad ibn Nihya reviles gray hair,

The clucking of monkeys suits him -

And the young men have no praise for him.

If he strokes his bald pate, even that is profit!

يُوافِقُهُ اِرتِكاضُ القِردِ فيهِ

يُوافِقُهُ اِرتِكاضُ القِردِ فيهِ

وَإِن مَسَحَ الضُراطَ فَذاكَ رِبحُ

وَإِن مَسَحَ الضُراطَ فَذاكَ رِبحُ

The monkey's kicking inside him suits him,

By it is a wound from the sharpened spear,

And if he wipes away the farting, that is a gain.

Yet no wound from things repeated in verse.

بِهِ جُرحٌ مِنَ الرُمحِ المُذَكّى

بِهِ جُرحٌ مِنَ الرُمحِ المُذَكّى

وَلَيسَ بِهِ مِنَ المَأثورِ جُرحُ

وَلَيسَ بِهِ مِنَ المَأثورِ جُرحُ

He bears a wound from the sharpened spear,

But no wound from the patterned sword.