أَتَصرِفُ أَجمالَ النَوى شاجِنِيَّةٌ

أَتَصرِفُ أَجمالَ النَوى شاجِنِيَّةٌ

أَمِ الحَفَرُ الأَعلى بِفَلجٍ مَصيرُها

أَمِ الحَفَرُ الأَعلى بِفَلجٍ مَصيرُها

Does Shājiniyyah turn aside the camels of departure,

The graceful palms bend mournfully

Or is Upper al-Ḥafar in Falj their destination?

Or does the upper pit, its fate to cave in?

وَما مِنهُما إِلّا بِهِ مِن دِيارِها

وَما مِنهُما إِلّا بِهِ مِن دِيارِها

مَنازِلُ أَمسَت ماتَبيدُ سُطورُها

مَنازِلُ أَمسَت ماتَبيدُ سُطورُها

Neither of the two lacks, among her dwelling places,

Both bear the marks of homes long lost

Encampments whose inscriptions remain, never fading.

Where dwellings have faded, their lines blurred

وَكائِن بِها مِن عَينِ باكٍ وَعَبرَةٍ

وَكائِن بِها مِن عَينِ باكٍ وَعَبرَةٍ

إِذا اِمتُرِيَت كانَت سَريعاً دُرورُها

إِذا اِمتُرِيَت كانَت سَريعاً دُرورُها

And how many a weeper's eye and tear are there,

And seen there, many a weeping eye and sorrow -

When milked, their flow is swift.

Swift their passage, should they be recalled

تَرى قَطَنٌ أَهلَ الأَصاريمِ إِنَّهُ

تَرى قَطَنٌ أَهلَ الأَصاريمِ إِنَّهُ

غَنِيٌّ إِذا ما كَلَّمَتهُ فَقيرُها

غَنِيٌّ إِذا ما كَلَّمَتهُ فَقيرُها

The settled folk of the tribal camps see that he is

See the cotton plant, it clothes the poor

Rich whenever she speaks to him, though he is their poor man.

Yet rich, when its needy come to speak

تَهادى إِلى بَيتِ الصَلاةِ كَأَنَّها

تَهادى إِلى بَيتِ الصَلاةِ كَأَنَّها

عَلى الوَعثِ ذو ساقٍ مَهيضٍ كَسيرُها

عَلى الوَعثِ ذو ساقٍ مَهيضٍ كَسيرُها

She walks swaying toward the house of prayer, as though she were

It sways towards the mosque, as if

On loose sand, one whose broken leg was fractured anew.

Crippled, limping heavily in its walk

كَدُرَّةِ غَوّاصٍ رَمى في مَهيبَةٍ

كَدُرَّةِ غَوّاصٍ رَمى في مَهيبَةٍ

بِأَجرامِهِ وَالنَفسُ يَخشى ضَميرُها

بِأَجرامِهِ وَالنَفسُ يَخشى ضَميرُها

Like a diver's pearl: into a fearsome deep he cast

Like a diver’s pearl flung amid thrashing waves

His whole body, while his innermost soul feared

His soul fears its conscience, as down he dives

مُوَكَّلَةً بِالدُرِّ خَرساءَ قَد بَكى

مُوَكَّلَةً بِالدُرِّ خَرساءَ قَد بَكى

إِلَيهِ مِنَ الغَواصِ مِنها نَذيرُها

إِلَيهِ مِنَ الغَواصِ مِنها نَذيرُها

A mute guardian of the pearls; already someone had wept

Left with the pearl, mute though it be

To him from among the divers, warning him against it.

It warns the diver, like a harbinger

فَقالَ أُلاقي المَوتَ أَو أُدرِكُ الغِنى

فَقالَ أُلاقي المَوتَ أَو أُدرِكُ الغِنى

لِنَفسِيَ وَالآجالُ جاءٍ دُهورُها

لِنَفسِيَ وَالآجالُ جاءٍ دُهورُها

So he said, ‘I shall meet death, or win wealth

“I’ll meet my death,” he says “or gain riches

For myself—the appointed times of death are coming.’

For myself, as life’s full term nears its end”

وَلَمّا رَأى ما دونَها خاطَرَت بِهِ

وَلَمّا رَأى ما دونَها خاطَرَت بِهِ

عَلى المَوتِ نَفسٌ لا يَنامُ فَقيرُها

عَلى المَوتِ نَفسٌ لا يَنامُ فَقيرُها

And when he saw what stood before it, a soul staked him

Seeing the pearl, the tempting soul

At risk of death—a soul whose poor man never sleeps.

Of the poor diver cannot sleep

فَأَهوى وَناباها حَوالَي يَتيمَةٍ

فَأَهوى وَناباها حَوالَي يَتيمَةٍ

هِيَ المَوتُ أَو دُنيا يُنادي بَشيرُها

هِيَ المَوتُ أَو دُنيا يُنادي بَشيرُها

Then he reached down, its two fangs flanking a peerless pearl:

He plunges amid thrashing waves

It was death—or a world of wealth, its herald crying good news.

Is it death or a herald of tidings he nears?

فَأَلقَت بِكَفَّيهِ المَنِيَّةُ إِذ دَنا

فَأَلقَت بِكَفَّيهِ المَنِيَّةُ إِذ دَنا

بِعَضَّةِ أَنيابٍ سَريعٍ سُؤورُها

بِعَضَّةِ أَنيابٍ سَريعٍ سُؤورُها

Then, as he drew near, Death struck his two palms

The claws of death reached out as it approached

With a bite of fangs whose onslaught was swift.

Bared fangs drawing rapidly closer

فَحَرَّكَ أَعلى حَبلِهِ بِحُشاشَةٍ

فَحَرَّكَ أَعلى حَبلِهِ بِحُشاشَةٍ

وَمِن فَوقِهِ خَضراءُ طامٍ بُحورُها

وَمِن فَوقِهِ خَضراءُ طامٍ بُحورُها

Then, with life's last remnant, he tugged the top of his rope,

He jerked the rope, seaweed swirling ‘bove

And above him lay a green sea, its waters swelling high.

While below, the dark waters churned

فَما جاءَ حَتّى مَجَّ وَالماءُ دونَهُ

فَما جاءَ حَتّى مَجَّ وَالماءُ دونَهُ

مِنَ النَفسِ أَلواناً عَبيطاً بُحورُها

مِنَ النَفسِ أَلواناً عَبيطاً بُحورُها

He scarcely came up before he spewed, the water beneath him,

Scarce had he come before the soul’s hues flowed out

Blood of many hues, its torrents freshly shed.

Scattered carelessly, lost ‘mid the swelling tides

إِذا ما أَرادوا أَن يُحيرَ مَدوفَةً

إِذا ما أَرادوا أَن يُحيرَ مَدوفَةً

أَبى مِن تَقَضّي نَفسِهِ لا يَحورُها

أَبى مِن تَقَضّي نَفسِهِ لا يَحورُها

Whenever they tried to make him swallow a blended draught,

When they would torment a voyager

He refused, as his life ebbed away, and could not swallow it.

His soul refuses to relent or stray from course

فَلَمّا أَرَوها أُمَّهُ هانَ وَجدُها

فَلَمّا أَرَوها أُمَّهُ هانَ وَجدُها

رَجاةَ الغِنى لَمّا أَضاءَ مُنيرُها

رَجاةَ الغِنى لَمّا أَضاءَ مُنيرُها

And when they showed it to his mother, her grief eased,

When his mother saw him weak and distraught

In hope of wealth, when its radiance shone.

Her hope of riches faded, its light dimmed

وَظَلَّت تَغالاها التِجارُ وَلا تُرى

وَظَلَّت تَغالاها التِجارُ وَلا تُرى

لَها سيمَةٌ إِلّا قَليلاً كَثيرُها

لَها سيمَةٌ إِلّا قَليلاً كَثيرُها

The merchants kept bidding higher for it, yet no one could see

And the merchants continue to cheat her

A price for it whose great sum was not paltry.

While nothing remains but the meager pearls