أَهاجَ لَكِ الشَوقَ الطَلولُ الدَوارِسُ

أَهاجَ لَكِ الشَوقَ الطَلولُ الدَوارِسُ

عَفاهُنَّ سَفسافٌ مِنَ التُربِ يابِسُ

عَفاهُنَّ سَفسافٌ مِنَ التُربِ يابِسُ

Have the timeworn ruins stirred longing in you?

Longing has stirred for you restless, circling winds,

Fine, dry dust has effaced them.

That have sifted barren dust over meadows once green.

مَنازِلُ أَسقاهُنَّ غادٍ وَرائِحٌ

مَنازِلُ أَسقاهُنَّ غادٍ وَرائِحٌ

وَسارٍ سَرى مِن آخِرِ اللَيلِ راجِسُ

وَسارٍ سَرى مِن آخِرِ اللَيلِ راجِسُ

Dwelling-places watered by morning and evening clouds,

Homes they watered, now a passing cloud,

And by a rumbling cloud that travelled late at night.

That journeyed on when night was done, a morning breeze.

كَأَنَّ وَميضَ البَرقِ في حُجُراتِهِ

كَأَنَّ وَميضَ البَرقِ في حُجُراتِهِ

مَصابيحُ رُهبانٍ سَقاهُنَّ قابِسُ

مَصابيحُ رُهبانٍ سَقاهُنَّ قابِسُ

As though the lightning flashing within its chambers

As though the lightning's flash within their rooms

Were monks’ lamps, fed by a kindler of fire.

Were lamps of monks, quenched by the pouring rains.

وَآخِرُ عَهدِ الوَصلِ مِن أُمِّ جَحدَرٍ

وَآخِرُ عَهدِ الوَصلِ مِن أُمِّ جَحدَرٍ

بِذي العُشِّ إِذ رَدَّت عَلَيها العَرامِسُ

بِذي العُشِّ إِذ رَدَّت عَلَيها العَرامِسُ

And the last tryst with Umm Jahdar was

The last we met was by Umm Juhdar's tent,

At Dhu al-‘Ushsh, when the sturdy camels returned to her.

When the wild mares charged upon her stony plain.

عَرامِسُ ما يَنطِقنَ إِلّا تَبَغُّماً

عَرامِسُ ما يَنطِقنَ إِلّا تَبَغُّماً

إِذا أُلقِيَت تَحتَ الرِجالِ الطَنافِسُ

إِذا أُلقِيَت تَحتَ الرِجالِ الطَنافِسُ

Sturdy camels whose only speech is low murmuring,

Charging mares that grunt unless spoken to gently

When rugs are laid beneath the men.

When stallions leap and mount their yielding frames.

وَإِنّي لَئِن أَلقاكِ يا أُمَّ جَحدَرٍ

وَإِنّي لَئِن أَلقاكِ يا أُمَّ جَحدَرٍ

وَيَحتَلَّ أَهلانا جَميعاً لَآيِسُ

وَيَحتَلَّ أَهلانا جَميعاً لَآيِسُ

Indeed, of ever meeting you, O Umm Jahdar,

And if we meet, O Umm Juhdar, though our folk despair,

And of our two families camping together, I despair.

Hope shall return and stand alert, no longer numb.

وَمِن أَجلِها كَلَّفتُها النَصَّ وَالسُرى

وَمِن أَجلِها كَلَّفتُها النَصَّ وَالسُرى

وَأَشعَثُ قَد نَبَّهَتهُ وَهُوَ ناعِسُ

وَأَشعَثُ قَد نَبَّهَتهُ وَهُوَ ناعِسُ

And for her sake I burdened my she-camel with swift travel and night journeys.

For your sake I roused the sleeping herd at dawn,

And a dishevelled man I had roused while he was drowsy,

Though slumbering myself, and drove them, called by your name,

بِذِكراكِ حَتّى طارَ عَن رَأسِهِ الكَرى

بِذِكراكِ حَتّى طارَ عَن رَأسِهِ الكَرى

كَما طارَ فَرخُ البانَةِ المُتَمايِسُ

كَما طارَ فَرخُ البانَةِ المُتَمايِسُ

By mentioning you, until sleep flew from his head,

Till all thought of you flew like a startled grouse

As the swaying fledgling of the bān tree flew.

When children clap their hands and run in sudden glee.

وَنَحنُ قَتَلنا الأَصبَغَينِ كِلَيهِما

وَنَحنُ قَتَلنا الأَصبَغَينِ كِلَيهِما

وَنَحنُ حَمَلنا الأَلفَ إِذ هاجَ داحِسُ

وَنَحنُ حَمَلنا الأَلفَ إِذ هاجَ داحِسُ

And we killed the two al-Asbaghs, both of them,

We slew both Al-Asbagh's sons, and we alone

And we shouldered the thousand when Dahis flared up.

Bore the banner when Dahis charged in rage.

وَنَحنُ قَتَلنا إِبنَ الشَريدِ فَأَصبَحَت

وَنَحنُ قَتَلنا إِبنَ الشَريدِ فَأَصبَحَت

عَذايِرُهُ تَعفو عَلَيها الرَوامِسُ

عَذايِرُهُ تَعفو عَلَيها الرَوامِسُ

And we killed Ibn al-Sharid, and now

And we slew Ibn Al-Sharid, till his excuses

His traces are effaced by the dust-bearing winds.

Seemed like the babbling of delirious men.

مَوانِعُ لا يُعطينَ حَبَّةَ خَردَلٍ

مَوانِعُ لا يُعطينَ حَبَّةَ خَردَلٍ

وَهُنَّ دَوانٍ في الحَديثِ أَوانِسُ

وَهُنَّ دَوانٍ في الحَديثِ أَوانِسُ

Unyielding women, who give not so much as a mustard seed,

Obstinate girls who'll not grant a grain of mustard,

Yet they are close and companionable in conversation.

Prattling at will like chattering starlings.

وَيَكرَهنَ أَن يَسمَعنَ في اللَهوِ ريبَةً

وَيَكرَهنَ أَن يَسمَعنَ في اللَهوِ ريبَةً

كَما كَرِهَت صَوتَ اللِجامِ الشَوامِسُ

كَما كَرِهَت صَوتَ اللِجامِ الشَوامِسُ

And they dislike hearing anything suspect in playful talk,

Hating to hear the slightest hint of censure,

As unruly horses dislike the sound of the bridle.

As the Syrian mares hate the clink of rein.