1. لو كان قلبي يومَ البين طوعَ يدي

    لَمَا سرى أثَرَ الغادي عن بلدي

    Had my heart, on the day of parting, been subject to my hand,

    It would not have journeyed by night in the morning traveler's wake, away from my homeland.

  2. لو أنّ صاحبةَ الخلخال لي وجدت

    وَجْدِي لعشتُ ولكن تلك لم تجد

    If the anklet-wearer had felt for me

    My longing, I would have lived—but that woman felt none.

  3. مالي بكيتُ بِعينٍ مِلؤُهَا حُرَقٌ

    وتلك تضحكُ عنْ بَرْدٍ وعن بَرَد

    Why did I weep with an eye full of burning anguish,

    While that woman laughs, revealing coolness and hailstones?

  4. وَدعتُهَا وبودي لا أُودّعُها

    وعدتُ أندبُ مَغْنَاها وَلَمْ تعدِ

    I bade her farewell, though I wished not to bid her farewell.

    And I returned to lament her dwelling, but she did not return.

  5. وغيّبَ البُعدُ عن ليلى مواصلتي

    وإنني لم أدانيها عَلَى البُعَدِ

    And distance kept my companionship from Layla,

    And indeed I have not drawn near her across the distance.

  6. ليتَ الحُداةَ غَداةَ الجِزع ما زجروا

    حُمْرَ النياقِ وليتَ العيسَ لم تخدِ

    Would that the camel-drivers, that morning at the valley bend, had not urged on

    The red she-camels—and would that the pale camels had not sped on!

  7. كأنّ أيدي مطايَاهُم وَقدْ حُدِيتْ

    تطا على حُرِّ وجهي أو على كبدي

    As though the forelegs of their mounts, driven on by song,

    Tread upon the tender surface of my face, or upon my liver.

  8. وفي الهوادج نورٌ ليس يستره

    عنك الحجابُ ووردٌ في الخدودِ ندِي

    And in the howdahs is a light that is not concealed

    From you by the veil, and dewy roses on the cheeks.

  9. لم يَصرموا إنما حبلى هموا صرموا

    لم يرحلوا إنّما هم رَحَّلوا جلدي

    They did not sever; it was only my cord they severed.

    They did not depart; it was my endurance they sent away.

  10. كم دار في خلدي مِنْ صَرِف نائبةٍ

    إلاّ فراقُهم مَا دَارَ في خلدي

    How many turns of misfortune have crossed my mind,

    Except their parting, which never crossed my mind.

  11. يا أهلَ تلك المطايا مَا يضرُّكم

    أن تبدلوني بطيب النوم بالسَّهدَ

    O people of those mounts, what harm would it do you

    To replace my sleeplessness with sweet sleep?

  12. يا عَاشقَ البيدِ قفراً لا أنيسَ بها

    وخائضَ اللّيلِ بالعيرانة الوخدِ

    O lover of deserts, barren, with no companion in them,

    And traverser of night on a sturdy, swift-striding she-camel,

  13. هاك احتملْ نفساً مني إلى رمعٍ

    كالعنبر الورد أو كالماء والشُّهُدِ

    Take this—carry a breath from me to Rima‘,

    Like rosy ambergris, or like water and honey.

  14. إلى جميلِ جميل القول من قِدَمٍ

    إلى ابن أحمد لا تلفت إلى أحدِ

    To Jamil, whose speech has long been fair,

    To the son of Ahmad—turn toward no one else.

  15. إلى جرير القوافي بل فرزْدقها

    وعاقدِ الحلِّ والتفاح للعُقد

    To the Jarir of rhymes—rather, their Farazdaq,

    And a binder of what is loose, and 'apples for knots' [wording unclear].

  16. إلى ابن طرفِ بن بحرٍ والتَثِمء يَدَه

    وارو الصحيحَ ولا تنقصْ ولا تزد

    To Ibn Tarf ibn Bahr—and kiss his hand.

    And recount the truth; neither subtract nor add.

  17. ذاك ابنُ عمي مَنْ انسابَه نسبي

    كالجفن للعين أو كالكفِ للعضدِ

    That is my cousin, whose ancestry is my own,

    Like the eyelid to the eye, or the palm to the upper arm.

  18. وقد أتاني طِرْسٌ فيه مَعْتبةُ

    لو ذقتُ مَطْعَمَها في الماءِ لم أرد

    And a parchment reached me, bearing a reproach:

    Had I tasted its flavor in water, I would not have gone to drink.

  19. وكيفَ أنكر شداداً وكمْ نعَمٍ

    له عليَّ بلا حصرٍ ولا عدد

    And how could I disown Shaddad, with so many favors

    He has bestowed on me, beyond reckoning or number?

  20. وكم حويتُ جزيلاً من مكارمه

    ورحتُ أرفلُ في أثوَابه الجُدد

    And how much bounty I have gathered from his generosity,

    And gone strutting in his new robes!

  21. لأنَّ قومي قومُ التبّعيّ وهَلْ

    يا قومَ أجدعُ أنْفي عَامداً بِيَديَ

    For my people are the people of al-Tubba‘i—and would I,

    O my people, deliberately cut off my nose with my own hand?

  22. قَبّلْتُ طِرْسَكَ إذ وافي وقابَلني

    منه السِّنانُ بكَفِّ الفارِس النّجد

    I kissed your parchment when it arrived, and was confronted

    By a spearpoint from it in a valiant horseman's hand.

  23. أسْمعتني فيه صوتاً ساق لي صَمَماً

    ليتَ القصائدَ لم تُولد ولم تلد

    In it you made me hear a voice that brought me deafness.

    Would that poems had neither been born nor given birth!

  24. قضيّةٌ شابهَتْ قِدْماً ليوسفَ بلْ

    مَحْمُولةٌ بَنِيَتْ سَقْفاً بلاَ عَمد

    An affair resembling Joseph's of old—rather,

    A burden built as a roof without pillars.

  25. أرْسلْتَها في سطورٍ منك قد مَلئت

    صُبْحاً من اللّيل أو ليْلاً من الزرد

    You sent it in lines of yours that were filled

    With morning from night, or night from chain mail.

  26. جاءت وظاهرُها حسنٌ ومَلْمسَهُا

    خُشْنٌ وفي جيدها حَبْل من المسد

    It came, fair in outward appearance, yet its touch

    Was rough, and around its neck was a rope of twisted palm fiber.

  27. فقلت إنّ حسامَ الدين بغيتها

    ولا قرار على زأرٍ مِنْ الأسد

    So I said, 'Husam al-Din is its aim.'

    And there is no repose before a lion's roar.

  28. ولو يَهزُّ حُسَامُ الدين أنملة

    منه على البحر غاض البحرُ بالزبد

    And if Husam al-Din shook a fingertip

    Of his over the sea, the sea would subside, foam and all.

  29. أو لو يقولُ حسامُ الدين ويحك قف

    للماء لم يجرِ أوْ للنارِ لم تَقِد

    Or if Husam al-Din said, 'Woe to you—stop!'

    To water, it would not flow; or to fire, it would not burn.

  30. اسباطُ يعقوبَ باعوا يوسفا فحووا

    عاراً بذاك وعيباً مدة الأبد

    Jacob's sons sold Joseph, and gained

    Shame thereby, and disgrace for all eternity.