1. عَفَتِ الدِيارُ مَحَلُّها فَمُقامُها

    بِمَنىً تَأَبَّدَ غَولُها فَرِجامُها

    The dwellings are effaced, their camping-place and abiding-place,

    at Minā; its Ghawl and Rijām have grown desolate.

  2. فَمَدافِعُ الرَيّانِ عُرِّيَ رَسمُها

    خَلَقاً كَما ضَمِنَ الوُحِيَّ سِلامُها

    The runoff channels of al-Rayyān have laid bare their trace,

    worn, like inscriptions preserved by their stones.

  3. دِمَنٌ تَجَرَّمَ بَعدَ عَهدِ أَنيسِها

    حِجَجٌ خَلَونَ حَلالُها وَحَرامُها

    Campsite traces, since the time of their familiar inhabitants,

    have seen years pass, their ordinary and sacred months.

  4. رُزِقَت مَرابيعَ النُجومِ وَصابَها

    وَدقُ الرَواعِدِ جَودُها فَرِهامُها

    They were blessed with the stars' spring rains, and struck by

    thunderclouds' rain, its downpours and its light showers,

  5. مِن كُلِّ سارِيَةٍ وَغادٍ مُدجِنٍ

    وَعَشيَّةٍ مُتَجاوِبٍ إِرزامُها

    from every night raincloud and overcast morning cloud,

    and evening clouds whose thunder answers itself.

  6. فَعَلا فُروعُ الأَيهُقانِ وَأَطفَلَت

    بِالجَهلَتَينِ ظِبائُها وَنَعامُها

    Then the shoots of wild rocket rose high, and gave birth

    at al-Jahlatayn their gazelles and ostriches.

  7. وَالعَينُ ساكِنَةٌ عَلى أَطلائِها

    عوذاً تَأَجَّلُ بِالفَضاءِ بِهامُها

    The wide-eyed wild cows rested beside their calves,

    new mothers, their young gathering in herds on the open plain.

  8. وَجَلا السُيولُ عَنِ الطُلولِ كَأَنَّها

    زُبُرٌ تُجِدُّ مُتونَها أَقلامُها

    The floods laid the ruins bare, as though they were

    written pages whose pens renew their texts,

  9. أَو رَجعُ واشِمَةٍ أُسِفَّ نُؤورُها

    كِفَفاً تَعَرَّضَ فَوقَهِنَّ وِشامُها

    or a tattooer's repeated work, her soot rubbed in

    in rings, with her tattoo marks spread across them.

  10. فَوَقَفتُ أَسأَلُها وَكَيفَ سُؤالُنا

    صُمّاً خَوالِدَ ما يُبينُ كَلامُها

    So I stopped to question them—yet how can we question

    deaf, enduring things whose speech reveals nothing?

  11. عَرِيَت وَكانَ بِها الجَميعُ فَأَبكَروا

    مِنها وَغودِرَ نُؤيُها وَثُمامُها

    They lay bare, though once the whole tribe was there; they left at dawn

    from them, leaving their encircling trench and thumām grass.

  12. شاقَتكَ ظُعنُ الحَيِّ حينَ تَحَمَّلوا

    فَتَكَنَّسوا قُطُناً تَصِرُّ خِيامُها

    The tribe's departing women stirred your longing as they loaded up,

    then sheltered in howdahs, their coverings creaking,

  13. مِن كُلِّ مَحفوفٍ يُظِلُّ عَصِيَّهُ

    زَوجٌ عَلَيهِ كِلَّةٌ وَقِرامُها

    each enclosed litter, its poles shaded by

    a coverlet, bearing a fine curtain and its patterned drape,

  14. زُجَلاً كَأَنَّ نِعاجَ توضِحَ فَوقَها

    وَظِباءَ وَجرَةَ عُطَّفاً آرامُها

    raised high, as though the wild cows of Tawḍiḥ were upon them,

    and Wajrah's gazelles, its white does turning toward one another.

  15. حُفِزَت وَزايَلَها السَرابُ كَأَنَّها

    أَجزاعُ بيشَةَ أَثلُها وَرُضامُها

    They were urged onward, and the mirage parted from them, as though they were

    Bīshah's valley bends, its tamarisks and heaps of rock.

  16. بَل ما تَذَكَّرُ مِن نَوارَ وَقَد نَأَت

    وَتَقَطَّعَت أَسبابُها وَرِمامُها

    But what do you recall of Nawār, now she has gone far,

    and her ties and frayed bonds are severed?

  17. مُرِّيَّةٌ حَلَّت بِفَيدِ وَجاوَرَت

    أَهلَ الحِجازِ فَأَينَ مِنكَ مَرامُها

    A woman of Murrah, she settled at Fayd and became neighbor to

    the people of al-Ḥijāz—how far from you is her sought abode!

  18. بِمَشارِقِ الجَبَلَينِ أَو بِمُحَجَّرٍ

    فَتَضَمَّنَتها فَردَةٌ فَرُخامُها

    On the eastern sides of the Two Mountains, or at Muḥajjar,

    then Fardah sheltered her, and its Rukhām.

  19. فَصُوائِقٌ إِن أَيمَنَت فَمَظِنَّةٌ

    فيها وِحافُ القَهرِ أَو طِلخامُها

    Then Ṣuwāʾiq; if she headed toward Yemen, her likely haunt

    is there, in al-Qahr's lowlands or its Ṭilkhām.

  20. فَاِقطَع لُبانَةَ مَن تَعَرَّضَ وَصلُهُ

    وَلَشَرُّ واصِلِ خُلَّةٍ صَرّامُها

    So cut off your desire for one whose bond turns aside,

    for surely the worst keeper of friendship is one who severs it.

  21. وَاِحبُ المُجامِلَ بِالجَزيلِ وَصَرمُهُ

    باقٍ إِذا ضَلَعَت وَزاغَ قِوامُها

    Reward the courteous friend generously; the chance to sever his bond

    remains, if friendship bends and its straightness swerves.

  22. بِطَليحِ أَسفارٍ تَرَكنَ بَقِيَّةً

    مِنها فَأَحنَقَ صُلبُها وَسَنامُها

    On a she-camel worn by journeys that left only a remnant

    of her, so her backbone and hump grew lean.

  23. وَإِذا تَغالى لَحمُها وَتَحَسَّرَت

    وَتَقَطَّعَت بَعدَ الكَلالِ خِدامُها

    And when her flesh has wasted and she has been stripped bare,

    and after exhaustion her fetlock-bands have snapped,

  24. فَلَها هِبابٌ في الزِمامِ كَأَنَّها

    صَهباءُ خَفَّ مَعَ الجَنوبِ جَهامُها

    she still springs against the rein, as though she were

    a tawny cloud whose rainless bulk speeds with the south wind,

  25. أَو مُلمِعٌ وَسَقَت لِأَحقَبَ لاحَهُ

    طَردُ الفُحولِ وَضَربُها وَكِدامُها

    or a pregnant wild she-ass carrying for a white-bellied male worn thin by

    the stallions' pursuit, their blows and their bites.

  26. يَعلو بِها حُدبَ الإِكامِ مُسَحَّجٌ

    قَد رابَهُ عِصيانُها وَوِحامُها

    A scarred male takes her over the rounded hilltops,

    troubled by her resistance and her pregnancy cravings.

  27. بِأَحِزَّةِ الثَلَبوتِ يَربَأُ فَوقَها

    قَفرَ المَراقِبِ خَوفُها آرامُها

    Among the ridges of Thalabūt he keeps watch above her,

    over deserted lookout-places, whose cairns are her terror.

  28. حَتّى إِذا سَلَخا جُمادى سِتَّةً

    جَزءً فَطالَ صِيامُهُ وَصِيامُها

    Until, when they had passed six months of Jumādā,

    living on herbage alone, his abstinence from water and hers grew long,

  29. رَجَعا بِأَمرِهِما إِلى ذي مِرَّةٍ

    حَصِدٍ وَنُجحُ صَريمَةٍ إِبرامُها

    they brought their purpose back to a strong resolve,

    tightly woven; a decision succeeds through binding it firm.

  30. وَرَمى دَوابِرَها السَفا وَتَهَيَّجَت

    ريحُ المَصايِفِ سَومُها وَسِهامُها

    Awns struck her hind hooves, and began to rage

    the summer wind, with its blasts and scorching heat.

  31. فَتَنازَعا سَبِطاً يَطيرُ ظِلالُهُ

    كَدُخانِ مُشعَلَةٍ يُشَبُّ ضِرامُها

    Then they raced through fine dust whose veils flew up

    like smoke from a kindled fire whose blaze is stoked,

  32. مَشمولَةٍ غُلِثَت بِنابِتِ عَرفَجٍ

    كَدُخانِ نارٍ ساطِعٍ أَسنامُها

    north-wind-blown and mixed with green ʿarfaj,

    like smoke from a fire whose crests rise high.

  33. فَمَضى وَقَدَّمَها وَكانَت عادَةً

    مِنهُ إِذا هِيَ عَرَّدَت إِقدامُها

    He went on, putting her ahead; it was his habit

    to make her go first whenever she hung back.

  34. فَتَوَسَّطا عُرضَ السَرِيِّ وَصَدَّعا

    مَسجورَةً مُتَجاوِراً قُلّامُها

    They reached the stream's middle and broke through

    a brimming pool, its saltwort thickly clustered,

  35. مَحفوفَةً وَسطَ اليَراعِ يُظِلُّها

    مِنهُ مُصَرَّعُ غابَةٍ وَقِيامُها

    ringed among reeds, shaded by

    their thicket's fallen stems and those still standing.

  36. أَفَتِلكَ أَم وَحشِيَّةٌ مَسبوعَةٌ

    خَذَلَت وَهادِيَةُ الصِوارِ قِوامُها

    Is it that one, or a wild cow whose calf was taken by beasts,

    who left the herd, though she was its guide and mainstay?

  37. خَنساءُ ضَيَّعَتِ الفَريرَ فَلَم يَرِم

    عُرضَ الشَقائِقِ طَوفُها وَبُغامُها

    A snub-nosed cow who lost her calf; never ceased

    her circling and lowing across the sandy hollows,

  38. لِمُعَفَّرٍ قَهدٍ تَنازَعَ شِلوَهُ

    غُبسٌ كَواسِبُ لا يُمَنُّ طَعامُها

    for a dust-covered, white calf whose torn body was fought over by

    dusky predators, hunters whose food is no gift.

  39. صادَفنَ مِنها غِرَّةً فَأَصَبنَها

    إِنَّ المَنايا لا تَطيشُ سِهامُها

    They found her off guard and struck her;

    death's arrows never miss their mark.

  40. باتَت وَأَسبَلَ واكِفٌ مِن ديمَةٍ

    يُروي الخَمائِلَ دائِماً تَسجامُها

    She spent the night while dripping rain from a steady raincloud poured down,

    its ceaseless flow watering the thickets.

  41. يَعلو طَريقَةَ مَتنِها مُتَواتِرٌ

    في لَيلَةٍ كَفَرَ النُجومَ غَمامُها

    Unbroken rain rose along the ridge of her back

    on a night whose clouds hid the stars.

  42. تَجتافُ أَصلاً قالِصاً مُتَنَبِّذاً

    بِعُجوبِ أَنقاءٍ يَميلُ هُيامُها

    She sheltered in the hollow of an exposed, isolated tree-root,

    at the bases of dunes whose loose sand slopes down.

  43. وَتُضيءُ في وَجهِ الظَلامُ مُنيرَةً

    كَجُمانَةِ البَحرِيِّ سُلَّ نِظامُها

    She gleams, luminous against the face of darkness,

    like a sea-diver's pearl freed from its string.

  44. حَتّى إِذا اِنحَسَرَ الظَلامُ وَأَسفَرَت

    بَكَرَت تَزُلُّ عَنِ الثَرى أَزلامُها

    Until, when the darkness drew away and dawn shone,

    she set out early, her arrow-like legs gliding over moist earth.

  45. عَلِهَت تَرَدَّدُ في نِهاءِ صَعائِدٍ

    سَبعاً تُؤاماً كامِلاً أَيّامُها

    Distraught, she wandered among Ṣuʿāʾid's pools

    for seven paired nights and days, all their days complete.

  46. حَتّى إِذا يَئِسَت وَأَسحَقَ حالِقٌ

    لَم يُبلِهِ إِرضاعُها وَفِطامُها

    Until, when she despaired and her full udder dried up,

    though neither her suckling nor her weaning had worn it down,

  47. وَتَوَجَّسَت رِزَّ الأَنيسِ فَراعَها

    عَن ظَهرِ غَيبٍ وَالأَنيسُ سَقامُها

    and she heard the faint sound of men, which startled her

    from somewhere unseen—men are her affliction—

  48. فَغَدَت كِلا الفَرجَينِ تَحسَبُ أَنَّهُ

    مَولى المَخافَةِ خَلفُها وَأَمامُها

    she moved on, deeming each of the two openings

    a haunt of fear, behind her and before her.

  49. حَتّى إِذا يَئِسَ الرُماةُ وَأَرسَلوا

    غُضفاً دَواجِنَ قافِلاً أَعصامُها

    Until, when the archers despaired and released

    droop-eared, trained hounds, their collar-thongs dried stiff,

  50. فَلَحِقنَ وَاِعتَكَرَت لَها مَدرِيَّةٌ

    كَالسَمهَرِيَّةِ حَدُّها وَتَمامُها

    they caught up, and she swung back with her pointed horn,

    like a Samharī spear in sharpness and full length,

  51. لِتَذودَهُنَّ وَأَيقَنَت إِن لَم تَذُد

    أَن قَد أَحَمَّ مَعَ الحُتوفِ حِمامُها

    to drive them off; she knew, if she did not,

    that amid death's hazards her own death had drawn near.

  52. فَتَقَصَّدَت مِنها كَسابِ فَضُرِّجَت

    بِدَمٍ وَغودِرَ في المَكَرِّ سُخامُها

    She singled out Kasāb among them, which was drenched

    in blood; their Sukhām lay abandoned where she charged.

  53. فَبِتِلكَ إِذ رَقَصَ اللَوامِعُ بِالضُحى

    وَاِجتابَ أَردِيَةَ السَرابِ إِكامُها

    On such a mount, when the shimmering lights dance at forenoon,

    and the hills don mantles of mirage,

  54. أَقضي اللُبانَةَ لا أُفَرِّطُ ريبَةً

    أَو أَن يَلومَ بِحاجَةٍ لُوّامُها

    I fulfill my desire, not abandoning it through fear,

    or because its faultfinders might reproach my purpose.

  55. أَوَلَم تَكُن تَدري نَوارُ بِأَنَّني

    وَصّالُ عَقدِ حَبائِلٍ جَذّامُها

    And did Nawār not know that I am

    one who binds the knots of cords and cuts them clean,

  56. تَرّاكُ أَمكِنَةٍ إِذا لَم أَرضَها

    أَو يَعتَلِق بَعضَ النُفوسِ حِمامُها

    one who quits places when they do not please me,

    unless their death takes hold of some souls?

  57. بَل أَنتِ لا تَدرينَ كَم مِن لَيلَةٍ

    طَلقٍ لَذيذٍ لَهوُها وَنِدامُها

    But you do not know how many a night,

    mild, with delightful amusement and drinking companions,

  58. قَد بِتُّ سامِرَها وَغايَةُ تاجِرٍ

    وافَيتُ إِذ رُفِعَت وَعَزَّ مُدامُها

    I have spent as its night companion; and a wine-merchant's flag

    I approached when it was raised and its wine was scarce.

  59. أُغلي السِباءَ بِكُلِّ أَدكَنَ عاتِقٍ

    أَو جَونَةٍ قُدِحَت وَفُضَّ خِتامُها

    I pay dearly for wine from every dark, aged wineskin,

    or a black jar, tapped and its seal broken.

  60. وَصَبوحِ صافِيَةٍ وَجَذبِ كَرينَةٍ

    بِمُوَتَّرٍ تَأتالُهُ إِبهامُها

    And a morning draught of clear wine, and a singing girl's plucking

    upon a stringed lute which her thumb deftly plies,

  61. بادَرتُ حاجَتَها الدَجاجَ بِسُحرَةٍ

    لِأُعَلَّ مِنها حينَ هَبَّ نِيامُها

    I sought before the cocks, in the hour before dawn,

    to drink again from it when its sleepers awoke.

  62. وَغَداةِ ريحٍ قَد وَزَعتُ وَقَرَّةٍ

    إِذ أَصبَحَت بِيَدِ الشَمالِ زِمامُها

    And on many a morning of wind and cold I held my mount in check,

    when the north wind held its reins in its hand.

  63. وَلَقَد حَمَيتُ الحَيَّ تَحمُلُ شِكَّتي

    فُرُطٌ وَشاحِيَ إِذ غَدَوتُ لِجامُها

    Indeed I defended the tribe, my weapons carried by

    a swift mare, her bridle my shoulder-belt when I rode at dawn.

  64. فَعَلَوتُ مُرتَقِباً عَلى ذي هَبوَةٍ

    حَرِجٍ إِلى أَعلامِهِنَّ قَتامُها

    I climbed to keep watch above dust-shrouded terrain,

    rugged, its dust rising to the hilltops.

  65. حَتّى إِذا أَلقَت يَداً في كافِرٍ

    وَأَجَنَّ عَوراتِ الثُغورِ ظَلامُها

    Until, when the sun cast a hand into darkness,

    and its gloom hid the borders' vulnerable gaps,

  66. أَسهَلتُ وَاِنتَصَبَت كَجَذعِ مُنيفَةٍ

    جَرداءَ يَحصَرُ دونَها جُرّامُها

    I descended to level ground; she stood like the trunk of a towering palm,

    bare, beyond the reach of its fruit-gatherers.

  67. رَفَّعتُها طَرَدَ النِعامِ وَشَلَّهُ

    حَتّى إِذا سَخِنَت وَخَفَّ عِظامُها

    I urged her on like ostriches chased and scattered,

    until she warmed and her bones grew light.

  68. قَلِقَت رِحالَتُها وَأَسبَلَ نَحرُها

    وَاِبتَلَّ مِن زَبَدِ الحَميمِ حِزامُها

    Her saddle rocked, and her breast streamed sweat,

    and her girth grew wet with the froth of hot sweat.

  69. تَرقى وَتَطعَنُ في العِنانِ وَتَنتَحي

    وِردَ الحَمامَةِ إِذ أَجَدَّ حَمامُها

    She rises, lunges against the rein, and veers

    like a dove seeking water when its flock flies hard.

  70. وَكَثيرَةٍ غُرَبائُها مَجهولَةٍ

    تُرجى نَوافِلُها وَيُخشى ذامُها

    And many an unfamiliar gathering, crowded with strangers,

    whose gifts are hoped for and whose blame is feared,

  71. غُلبٌ تَشَذَّرُ بِالذُحولِ كَأَنَّها

    جِنُّ البَدِيِّ رَواسِياً أَقدامُها

    thick-necked men swaggering over blood-feuds, as though they were

    the jinn of al-Badī, their feet firmly planted,

  72. أَنكَرتُ باطِلَها وَبُؤتُ بِحَقِّها

    عِندي وَلَم يَفخَر عَلَيَّ كِرامُها

    I repudiated its falsehood and acknowledged its rightful claim

    against me; its noble men did not outboast me.

  73. وَجَزورِ أَيسارٍ دَعَوتُ لِحَتفِها

    بِمَغالِقٍ مُتَشابِهٍ أَجسامُها

    And many a gamesters' camel I summoned to slaughter

    with gaming arrows alike in shape.

  74. أَدعو بِهِنَّ لِعاقِرٍ أَو مُطفِلٍ

    بُذِلَت لِجِيرانِ الجَميعِ لِحامُها

    I call with them for a barren she-camel or one with young,

    its meat freely given to all the camp's neighbors.

  75. فَالضَيفُ وَالجارُ الجَنيبُ كَأَنَّما

    هَبَطا تَبالَةَ مُخصِباً أَهضامُها

    The guest and unrelated neighbor seem as though

    they had descended into Tabālah, its hollows fertile.

  76. تَأوي إِلى الأَطنابِ كُلُّ رَذِيَّةٍ

    مِثلُ البَلِيَّةِ قالِصٌ أَهدامُها

    Every destitute woman shelters beside the tent-ropes,

    like a camel abandoned to die, her rags drawn short.

  77. وَيُكَلِّلونَ إِذا الرِياحُ تَناوَحَت

    خُلُجاً تُمَدُّ شَوارِعاً أَيتامُها

    They crown with meat, when the winds wail against each other,

    deep bowls toward which their orphans reach.

  78. إِنّا إِذا اِلتَقَتِ المَجامِعُ لَم يَزَل

    مِنّا لِزازُ عَظيمَةٍ جَشّامُها

    When the assemblies meet, we always have

    among us one who grapples with a great affair and bears its burden,

  79. وَمُقَسِّمٌ يُعطي العَشيرَةَ حَقَّها

    وَمُغَذمِرٌ لِحُقوقِها هَضّامُها

    and an apportioner who gives the tribe its due,

    and a stern arbiter of its rights who yields them

  80. فَضلاً وَذو كَرَمٍ يُعينُ عَلى النَدى

    سَمحٌ كَسوبُ رَغائِبٍ غَنّامُها

    in generosity; and a noble man who helps in giving,

    open-handed, acquiring precious things and winning them as spoils,

  81. مِن مَعشَرٍ سَنَّت لَهُم آبائُهُم

    وَلِكُلِّ قَومٍ سُنَّةٌ وَإِمامُها

    from a people whose fathers laid down a way for them—

    every people has a custom and its leader.

  82. لا يَطبَعونَ وَلا يَبورُ فَعالُهُم

    إِذ لا يَميلُ مَعَ الهَوى أَحلامُها

    They do not sink to baseness, nor do their deeds perish,

    for their judgments do not bend with desire.

  83. فَاِقنَع بِما قَسَمَ المَليكُ فَإِنَّما

    قَسَمَ الخَلائِقَ بَينَنا عَلّامُها

    Be content with what the Sovereign allotted; for only

    the One who knows them apportioned our natures among us.

  84. وَإِذا الأَمانَةُ قُسِّمَت في مَعشَرٍ

    أَوفى بِأَوفَرِ حَظِّنا قَسّامُها

    And when trustworthiness was apportioned among a people,

    its apportioner bestowed on us the fullest share.

  85. فَبَنى لَنا بَيتاً رَفيعاً سَمكُهُ

    فَسَما إِلَيهِ كَهلُها وَغُلامُها

    He built for us a house whose roof stands high,

    and its mature men and youths rose toward it.

  86. وَهُمُ السُعاةُ إِذا العَشيرَةُ أَفظِعَت

    وَهُمُ فَوارِسُها وَهُم حُكّامُها

    They are the doers when the tribe is stricken with fear;

    they are its horsemen and its judges.

  87. وَهُمُ رَبيعٌ لِلمُجاوِرِ فيهُمُ

    وَالمُرمِلاتِ إِذا تَطاوَلَ عامُها

    They are springtime to the neighbor dwelling among them,

    and to destitute women when the year drags long.

  88. وَهُمُ العَشيرَةُ أَن يُبَطِّئَ حاسِدٌ

    أَو أَن يَميلَ مَعَ العَدُوِّ لِئامُها

    They are the tribe, should an envier hang back,

    or its base men side with the enemy.