وَرَكبٍ قَدِ اِستَرخَت طُلاهُم مِنَ السُرى

وَرَكبٍ قَدِ اِستَرخَت طُلاهُم مِنَ السُرى

مُقيمٍ بِلَحيَيهِ النِخاعُ وَأَميَلُ

مُقيمٍ بِلَحيَيهِ النِخاعُ وَأَميَلُ

And many a band of riders whose necks had gone slack from night travel,

The remains of encampments against whose sides

One with his spinal marrow lodged at his jaws, another leaning sideways,

Their fires have died away, and only ashes are left;

عَلى ذي مَنارٍ تَعرِفُ العيسُ مَتنَهُ

عَلى ذي مَنارٍ تَعرِفُ العيسُ مَتنَهُ

كَما تَعرِفُ الأَضيافُ آلَ المُهَمَّلِ

كَما تَعرِفُ الأَضيافُ آلَ المُهَمَّلِ

On a waymarked road whose back the pale camels know,

Whose millstones showing their teeth proclaim

As guests know the household of al-Muhammal.

That here once dwelt a family known in halls of hospitality;

أَلا قَبَّحَ اللَهُ القَلوصَ الَّتي سَرَت

أَلا قَبَّحَ اللَهُ القَلوصَ الَّتي سَرَت

بِرَحلي إِلى خَصيَي عِدانِ المُهَمَّلِ

بِرَحلي إِلى خَصيَي عِدانِ المُهَمَّلِ

Ah, may God curse the young she-camel that traveled by night

May Allah curse her who packed up and departed

With my saddle to the two eunuchs of ʿIdān al-Muhammal—

From my two encampments of Edan's blackened stones!

بَني أُمُّ عَيلانٍ كَأَنَّ لِحاهُمُ

بَني أُمُّ عَيلانٍ كَأَنَّ لِحاهُمُ

مَخالي شَعيرٍ عُلِّقَت فَوقَ أَبغُلِ

مَخالي شَعيرٍ عُلِّقَت فَوقَ أَبغُلِ

The sons of Umm ʿAylān, whose beards seem like

Sons of Umm Aylan, your beards, when seen

Barley nosebags hung above mules.

Are like grazing flocks of sheep dotted on a hillside.

تَجَمَّعتُمُ لي في فَصيلٍ كَأَنَّما

تَجَمَّعتُمُ لي في فَصيلٍ كَأَنَّما

تَجَمَّعتُمُ لي في أَغَرَّ مُحَجَّلِ

تَجَمَّعتُمُ لي في أَغَرَّ مُحَجَّلِ

You gathered against me over a weaned camel calf, as though

You rallied to me as though you were rallied

You had gathered against me over a white-blazed, white-stockinged horse.

In the darkest depths of some pitch-black night.