وَمُعجَبٍ بِمَديحِ الشِعرِ يَمنَعُهُ

وَمُعجَبٍ بِمَديحِ الشِعرِ يَمنَعُهُ

مِن المَديحِ ثَوابُ المَدحِ وَالشَفَقُ

مِن المَديحِ ثَوابُ المَدحِ وَالشَفَقُ

And many a man, delighted by poetic praise, is kept

Delighted with poetry's praise, denied

From praise by the recompense it calls for, and by fear.

Its rewards by the fear of flattery’s stain,

يا آبيَ المَدحِ مِن قَولٍ يُحَبِّرُهُ

يا آبيَ المَدحِ مِن قَولٍ يُحَبِّرُهُ

ذو نيقَةٍ في حَواشي شِعرِهِ أَنَقُ

ذو نيقَةٍ في حَواشي شِعرِهِ أَنَقُ

O you who reject praise in words adorned

O Father of true praise that purifies

By a man of fine taste, whose verse is edged with elegance:

Speech with a nicety its margins contain!

إِنَّكَ وَالمَدحَ كالعَذراءِ يُعجِبُها

إِنَّكَ وَالمَدحَ كالعَذراءِ يُعجِبُها

مَسُّ الرِجالِ وَيَثني قَلبَها الفَرَقُ

مَسُّ الرِجالِ وَيَثني قَلبَها الفَرَقُ

Indeed, with praise you are like a virgin delighted by

You and praise are as a maiden who takes pleasure

The touch of men, though fear turns her heart away.

In men's touch yet it grieves her heart full sore;

تُبدي بِذاكَ سُروراً وَهيَ مُشفقَةٌ

تُبدي بِذاكَ سُروراً وَهيَ مُشفقَةٌ

كَما يَهابُ مَسيسَ الحَيَّةِ الفَرِقُ

كَما يَهابُ مَسيسَ الحَيَّةِ الفَرِقُ

She shows delight in it, yet remains apprehensive,

With joy displaying what in fear she’d treasure

As a fearful man dreads the touch of a snake.

As the snake fears the charmer's touch before.

لَكِن بمَديَنَ مِن مَفضى سوَيَمَرَةٍ

لَكِن بمَديَنَ مِن مَفضى سوَيَمَرَةٍ

مَن لا يُذَمُّ وَلا يُشنا لَه خُلقُ

مَن لا يُذَمُّ وَلا يُشنا لَه خُلقُ

But in Madyan, by the open ground of Suwaymarah,

But craving praise from the chief whose wont no blaming

Is one never blamed, with no trait of his despised.

Nor evil tongues of men could e'er malign,

أَهلُ المَدائِحِ تأتيهِ فَتَمدَحُهُ

أَهلُ المَدائِحِ تأتيهِ فَتَمدَحُهُ

وَالمادِحونَ إِذا قالوا لَه صَدَقوا

وَالمادِحونَ إِذا قالوا لَه صَدَقوا

Panegyrists come to him and praise him,

Whose very home to eulogists seems claiming

And when his praisers speak of him, they speak the truth.

That here their honest praises they enshrine -

لا يَستَقِرُّ وَلا تَخفى عَلامَتُهُ

لا يَستَقِرُّ وَلا تَخفى عَلامَتُهُ

إِذا القَنا شالَ في أَطرافِها الحرَقُ

إِذا القَنا شالَ في أَطرافِها الحرَقُ

He never stands still, nor is his emblem hidden,

No trace of him eludes us, his least sign

When fire rises at the tips of the spears,

Seen when the tent-pegs loosen and flap in the gale.

في يَوم لا مالَ عِندَ المَرءِ يَنفَعُهُ

في يَوم لا مالَ عِندَ المَرءِ يَنفَعُهُ

إِلّا السِّنانُ وَإِلّا الرُمحُ وَالدَرَقُ

إِلّا السِّنانُ وَإِلّا الرُمحُ وَالدَرَقُ

On a day when no wealth a man possesses avails him,

When wealth avails not, accoutrements fine,

Except the spearhead, the spear, and shields.

Naught but the spear, the coat of mail.

يَطعنُ بالرمحِ أَحياناً وَيضرِبُهُم

يَطعنُ بالرمحِ أَحياناً وَيضرِبُهُم

بِالسَيفِ ثُمَّ يُدانيهم فَيَعتَنِقُ

بِالسَيفِ ثُمَّ يُدانيهم فَيَعتَنِقُ

At times he thrusts with the spear, and strikes them

Now with the spear he charges, strikes amain,

With the sword, then closes with them and grapples.

Now greets with honor's kiss the necks they yield.

يَكادُ بابُكَ مِن جودٍ وَمِن كَرَمٍ

يَكادُ بابُكَ مِن جودٍ وَمِن كَرَمٍ

مِن دونِ بَوّابَةٍ لِلناسِ يَندَلِقُ

مِن دونِ بَوّابَةٍ لِلناسِ يَندَلِقُ

Your door, from bounty and generosity, almost

So free your open hand, your nature's train,

Swings open to all without gatekeepers.

Your door stands gateway-less the folk to shield.

إِنّي لأطوي رِجالاً أَن أَزورَهُمُ

إِنّي لأطوي رِجالاً أَن أَزورَهُمُ

وَفيهُمُ عكَرُ الأَنعامِ وَالوَرقُ

وَفيهُمُ عكَرُ الأَنعامِ وَالوَرقُ

I do fold men away rather than visit them,

Though yearning unto these a visit to pay,

Though they have great herds of livestock and silver,

I fold my clothes thereof, of care to rid,

طَيَّ الثِيابِ الَّتي لَو كُشِّفَت وُجِدَت

طَيَّ الثِيابِ الَّتي لَو كُشِّفَت وُجِدَت

فيها المَعاوِزُ في التَفتيشِ وَالخرقُ

فيها المَعاوِزُ في التَفتيشِ وَالخرقُ

As one folds garments that, if unfolded, would reveal

Lest, search revealing rents concealed away,

On inspection, worn-out clothes and rags within.

I stand in shame, of subterfuge amid.

وَأَتركُ الثَوبَ يَوماً وَهوَ ذو سَعَةٍ

وَأَتركُ الثَوبَ يَوماً وَهوَ ذو سَعَةٍ

وَأَلبَسُ الثَوبَ وَهوَ الضَيِّقُ الخلَقُ

وَأَلبَسُ الثَوبَ وَهوَ الضَيِّقُ الخلَقُ

And sometimes I leave a garment, though it is ample,

A robe one day too ample I cast aside,

And wear a garment that is tight and threadbare,

Another don, most miserly mean its cut.

إِكرامُ نَفسي وَإِنّي لا يُوافِقُني

إِكرامُ نَفسي وَإِنّي لا يُوافِقُني

وَلَو ظَمِئتُ فَحُمتُ المشرَب الرَنقُ

وَلَو ظَمِئتُ فَحُمتُ المشرَب الرَنقُ

Out of self-respect; and I cannot abide

My soul I pamper, yet it is dissatisfied,

A murky watering place, even if I thirst and circle it.

Parched were I, yet clear drink I'd never touch.