مسهد الطرف لم يخطر بناظرتي

طيب المنام ولا أقوى على الجلد

Sleepless-eyed, my eyes have never known

the sweetness of sleep, nor have I strength to endure.

قد ساورت مضجعي أفعى الأسى فغدت

تسيب من سورة الأحزان في خلدي

The viper of sorrow has assailed my bed and now

roams through my mind, driven by the fury of sorrows.

إن هوم الحي حيي همت من كلف

حتى كأني لم أعرف سوى السهد

If the tribe—my tribe—dozes, I wander in love's torment,

until it is as though I have known nothing but sleeplessness.

من أين لي الصبر حتى استعين به

وكيف يسلو فؤاد ذاب بالكمد

Where can I find patience, so that I may seek its help?

And how can a heart melted by grief find solace?

ولي مع الجيرة الغادين ذو هيف

كأنه شادن لكن على قتد

And with the neighbors departing in the morning is my slender-waisted beloved,

as though he were a young gazelle—but upon a camel's saddle-frame.

وغصن بأن ولكن لم يمله هوىً

إلى محب ولم يعطف على أحد

And a bān-tree bough, yet no passion has bent him

toward a lover, nor has he inclined toward anyone.

يزري بغصن النقا أما أنثنى ترفاً

ويخجل الظبية الجيداء بالجيد

He puts the sand-dune's bough to shame when he sways so delicately,

and shames the long-necked doe with his neck.

إذا رأت شخصه عيني اعوّذه

خوفا على قده الزاهي من الحسد

Whenever my eye beholds his figure, I invoke protection for him,

fearing that envy might harm his radiant form.

إذا انثنى مرحا أو راح مبتسما

يهتز عن غصن يفتر عن برد

When he sways merrily or goes off smiling,

his sway reveals a bough, his smile reveals hailstones.

بانوا به أهله حتى إذا بعدوا

ولي على إثرهم قلبي ولم يعد

His people departed with him; at last, when they were far away,

my heart followed in their wake and never returned.

بانوا ولي كبد أثناء ركبهم

طاحت شظايا فيا وجدي علي كبدي

They departed, and my liver, amid their caravan,

fell apart in shards—oh, my anguish over my liver!

الله يا حادي الأظعان لي قمر

أثناء تلك الحدوج البيض فاتئد

For God's sake, O driver of the camel-litters, I have a moon

among those white howdahs—so go slowly.