أمن آل هند عرفت الرسوما — Rabia Al Dhabi

أَمِن آلِ هِندٍ عَرَفَت الرُسوما

بِجُمرانَ قَفراً أَبَت أَن تَريما

Was it the traces of Hind's household that you recognized,

at Jumran, desolate, refusing to disappear?

تَخالُ مَعارِفَها بَعدَ ما

أَتَت سَنَتانِ عَلَيها الوشوما

You would take their recognizable markings, after

two years had passed over them, for tattoos.

وَقَفتُ أُسائِلُها ناقَتي

وَما أَنا أَم ما سُؤالي الرُسوما

I halted my she-camel to question them,

yet what am I about—or what use is my questioning the traces?

وَذَكَّرَني العَهدَ أَيّامُها

فَهاجَ التَذَكُّرُ قَلباً سَقيما

Their days reminded me of the old bond,

and remembrance stirred an ailing heart.

فَفاضَت دُموعي فَنَهنَهتُها

عَلى لِحيَتي وَرِدائي سُجوما

My tears overflowed, and I restrained them,

streaming down my beard and my cloak.

فَعَدَّيتُ أَدماءَ عَيرانَةٍ

عُذافِرَةٍ لا تَمَلُّ الرَسيما

Then I urged on a pale she-camel, sturdy as a wild ass,

massive and powerful, never weary of her swift trot,

كِنازِ البَضيعِ جُمالِيَّةً

إِذا ما بَغَمنَ تَراها كَتوما

thick of flesh, built like a great male camel;

when the others grunt, you find her silent.

كَأَنّي أوشِحُ أَنساعَها

أَقَبَّ مِنَ الحُقبِ جَأباً شَتيما

As though I draped her saddle-straps over

a lean-bellied, stocky, ill-favored wild ass with a white belly,

يُلَحَّئُ مِثلَ القَنا ذُبَّلا

ثَلاثاً عَنِ الوِردِ قَد كُنَّ هيما

chiding females slender as withered spear-shafts,

three of them, away from water, though parched with thirst.

رَعاهُنَّ بِالقُفِّ حَتّى ذَوَت

بقُولِ التَناهي وَهَرَّ السَموما

He grazed them on the stony upland until there withered

the herbs of the water-hollows; he loathed the scorching wind.

فَظَلَّت صَوادِيَ خُزرَ العُيونِ

إِلى الشَمسِ مِن رَهبَةٍ أَن تَغيما

So they remained thirsty, with eyes turned sidelong

toward the sun, afraid it might be obscured.

فَلَمّا تَبَيَّنَ أَنَّ النَهارُ

تَوَلّى وَآنَسَ وَحفاً بَهيما

When he realized that the day

had departed, and perceived a dense, pitch-black darkness,

رَمى اللَيل مُستَعرِضاً حَوزَهُ

بِهِنَّ مِزَرّاً مِشَلّاً عَذوما

he struck out across the night, driving his herd,

with them, pressing, goading, and biting them onward.

فَأَورَدَها معَ ضَوء الصَباحِ

شَرائِعَ تَطحَرُ عَنها الجَميما

He brought them to water with the light of dawn,

to watering-places that swept dense herbage away,

طَوامِيَ خُضراً كَلَونِ السَماءِ

يَزينُ الدَرارِيُّ فيها النُجوما

brimming and green, like the color of the sky,

where the brightest stars adorn the stars.

وَبِالماءِ قَيسٌ أَبو عامِرٍ

يُؤَمِّلُها ساعةً أَن تَصوما

And by the water was Qays, Abu Amir,

hoping they would stand still for a while.

وَبِالكَفِّ زَوراءُ حِرمِيَةً

مِنَ القُضبِ تُعقِبُ عَزفاً نَئيما

In his hand was a curved bow from the Haram,

made from cut branches, answering a twang with a low moan,

وَأَعجَفُ حَشرٌ تَرى بِالرِصا

فِ مِمّا يُخالِطُ مِنها عَصيما

and a slender, fine-tipped arrow—you see on its sinew binding

a stain from what comes into contact with it.

فَأَخطَأَها فَمَضَت كُلُّها

تَكادُ مِنَ الذُعرِ تَفري الأَديما

But he missed them, and they all fled,

almost tearing their hides from terror.

وَإِن تَسأَليني فَإِنّي اِمرؤٌ

أَهينُ اللَئيمَ وَأَحبو الكَريما

And if you ask me, I am a man

who abases the ignoble and rewards the noble.

وَأَبني المَعاليَ بِالمَكرُمات

وَأُرضي الخَليلَ وَأَروي النَديما

I build high honor through noble deeds,

satisfy my friend, and slake my drinking companion's thirst.

وَيَحمَدُ بِذلي لَهُ مُعتَفٍ

إِذا ذَمَّ مَن يَعتَفيهِ اللَيئَما

A petitioner praises what I give him,

when a seeker of gifts condemns the miser.

وَأَجزي القُروضَ وَفاءً بِها

بِبُؤسى بَئيس وَنُعمى نَعيما

I repay debts, faithfully fulfilling them:

ill with ill, and kindness with kindness.

وَقومي فَإِن أَنتَ كَذَّبتَني

بِقَولِيَ فَاِسأَل بِقَومي عَليما

And my people—if you call me a liar

for what I say, ask someone who knows my people.

أَلَيسوا الَّذينَ إِذا أَزمَةٌ

أَلَحَّت عَلى الناسِ تُنسي الحُلوما

Are they not those who, when hardship

presses upon people and makes them forget good sense,

يُهينونَ في الحَقِّ أَموالَهُم

إِذا اللَزَباتُ التَحَينَ المُسيما

hold their wealth cheap in a rightful cause,

when calamities strip the grazing herdsman bare?

طِوالِ الرَماحِ غَداةَ الصَباحِ

ذَوو نَجدَةٍ يَمنَعونَ الحَريما

Long-speared at break of day,

men of valor who defend their households.

بَنو الحَرب يَوماً إِذا اِستَلأَموا

حَسِبتَهُم في الحَديدِ القُروما

Sons of war—on a day when they don armor,

you would take them, clad in iron, for mighty bull camels.

فِدى بُزاخَةَ أَهلي لَهُم

إِذا مَلَأوا بِالجُموع الحَزيما

At Buzakhah—may my family be their ransom—

when they filled al-Hazim with gathered hosts.

وَإِذ لَقِيَت عامِرٌ بِالنِسا

رِ مِنهُم وَطِخفَةَ يَوماً غَشوما

And when Amir met, at al-Nisar,

and at Tikhfah, a ruthless day at their hands,

بِهِ شاطَرو الحَيَّ أَموالَهُم

هَوازِنَ ذا وَفرِها وَالعَديما

on which they took half the clan's wealth,

Hawazin's, from wealthy and penniless alike.

وَساقَت لَنا مَذحَجٌ بِالكُلابِ

مَواليها كُلَّها وَالصَميما

And Madhhij drove toward us at al-Kulab

all its clients and its true-born tribesmen.

وَساقَت لَن مَذحَجٌ بِالكُلابِ

فَعادوا كَأَنَّ لَم يَكونوا رَميما

And Madhhij drove [toward us] at al-Kulab,

so they became crumbling remains, as though they had never been,

بِطَعن يَجيشُ لَهُ عانِدٌ

وَضَربٍ يُفَلِّقُ هاماً جشوما

from spear-thrusts that send unstaunchable blood surging,

and blows that split massive heads.

وَأَضحَت بِتَيمُنَ أَجسادُهُم

يَشَبَّهُها مَن رَآها الهَشيما

And their bodies lay at Taymun;

whoever saw them likened them to dry, broken stalks.

تَرَكنا عُمارَةَ بَينَ الرِماحِ

عُمارَةَ عَبسٍ نَزيفاً كَليما

We left Umarah among the spears,

Umarah of Abs, drained of blood and wounded.

وَلَولا فَوارِسُنا ما دَعَت

بِذاتِ السُلَيمِ تَميمٌ تَميما

But for our horsemen, no call would have passed

from Tamim to Tamim at Dhat al-Sulaym.

وَما إِن لِأَوبَئِها أَن أَعُد

مَآثِرَ قَومي وَلا أَن أَلوما

It is not to disparage them that I recount

my people's glorious deeds, nor to reproach them;

وَلَكِن أُذَكِّرُ آلاءَنا

حَديثاً وَما كانَ مِنّا قَديما

rather, I recall our benefactions,

both recent and those we performed long ago.

وَدارِ هَوانِ إِنِفنا المُقامَ

بِها فَحَلَلنا مَحَّلا كَريما

And a dwelling of humiliation—we scorned to remain

there, and so settled in an honorable abode,

إِذا كانَ بَعضُهُم لِلهَوانِ

خَيطَ صَفاءٍ وَأُمّا رَؤوما

when some of them were, in the face of humiliation,

like an ostrich of the rocks and a tender mother.

وَثَغرٍ مَخوفَ أَقَمنا بِهِ

يَهابُ بشهِ غَيرُنا أَن يُقيما

And a dreaded frontier we occupied,

where others fear [its menace] and dare not remain.

جَعَلنا السُيوفَ بِهِ وَالرِماحَ

مَعاقِلَنا وَالحَديدَ النَظيما

There we made swords and spears

our strongholds, and iron linked in ordered rings,

وَجُرداً يُقَربنَ دونَ العِيالِ

خِلالَ البُيوتِ يَلكُنَ الشَكيما

and sleek horses kept close, before our families,

among the tents, chewing their bits,

تعَوَّد في الحَربِ أَن لا بَراحَ

إِذا كُلِّمَت لا تَشَكّى الكُلوما

accustomed in war never to leave their posts;

when wounded, they do not complain of their wounds.