1. لَعَلَّ رَسُولَ البَرقِ يَغتَنِمُ الأَجرَا

    فَيَنثُرُ عَنِّي مَاءَ عَبرَتِهِ نَثرا

    Perhaps lightning's messenger will win the reward,

    and scatter the water of his tears on my behalf.

  2. مُعَامَلةٌ أَربَى بِهَا غَيرَ مُذنِبٍ

    فَأَقضِيهِ دَمعَ العَينِ عَن نُقطَةٍ بَحرَا

    A bargain through which he gains interest without sin:

    I repay him with my eye's tears, a sea for a drop,

  3. لِيَسقِيَ مِن تُدمِيرَ قُطراً مُحَبَّباً

    يَقِرُّ بِعَينِ القُطرِ أَن تَشرَبَ القَطرَا

    that he may water a beloved region of Tudmir,

    whose eye is gladdened to drink the rain,

  4. وَيُقرِضُهُ ذَوبَ اللُجينِ وَإِنَّمَا

    تُوَفِّيهِ عَينِي مِن مَدَامِعِها تِبرَا

    and lend it molten silver, whereas

    my eye repays him in raw gold from its tears.

  5. وَمَا ذَاكَ تَقصِيراً بِهَا غَيرَ أنَّهُ

    سَجِيَّةُ مَاء البَحرِ أَن يُذوِيَ الزَّهرَا

    That is no failing on its part; it is only that

    seawater's nature is to wither flowers.

  6. خَلِيلَيَّ قُومَا فَاحبِسَا طُرُقَ الصَّبَا

    مَخَافَةَ أن يَحمَى بِزَفرَتِيَ الحَرَّا

    My two friends, rise and block the east wind's paths,

    for fear the heat might grow fiercer with my sigh.

  7. فإِنَّ الصَّبَا رِيحٌ عَليَّ كَرِيمَةٌ

    بآيَةِ مَا تَسرِي مِنَ الجَنَّةِ الصُّغرَى

    For the east wind is a wind generous to me,

    as proven by its nightly passage from the lesser paradise.

  8. خَلِيلَيَّ أعنِي أَرضَ مرسِيَةَ المُنى

    وَلَولا تَوَخِّي الصِّدق سَمَّيتُها الكُبرَى

    My two friends, I mean Murcia, the land of wishes;

    but for my pursuit of truth, I would call it the greater.

  9. مَحَلِّي بَل جَوِّي الَّذِي عَبقَت بِهِ

    نَوَاسِمُ آدَابِي مُعَطَّرَةً نَشرَا

    My dwelling—rather, my air, made fragrant

    by the breezes of my writings, wafting perfume.

  10. وَوَكرِي الَّذِي مِنهُ دَرَجتُ فَلَيتَنِي

    فُجِعتُ بِرِيشِ العَزمِ كَي أَلزَمَ الوَكرَا

    And my nest, from which I fledged—if only I

    had been bereft of resolve's feathers, to remain in the nest!

  11. وَمَا رَوضَةُ الخَضرَاءِ قَد مُثِّلَت بِهَا

    مَجَرَّتُهَا نَهراً وَأَنجُمُهَا زهرَا

    Nor is the garden of the green heavens—where

    its Milky Way is figured as a river, its stars as flowers—

  12. بِأبهَجَ مِنهَا وَالخَلِيجُ مَجَرَّةٌ

    وَقَد فَضَحَت أَزهَارُ سَاحَتِهَا الزُّهرَا

    more delightful than she, whose canal is a Milky Way,

    and whose grounds' blossoms have shamed the radiant stars.

  13. وَقَد أَسكَرَت أَعطَافَ أَغصَانِهَا الصَّبَا

    وَمَا كُنتُ أَعدَدتُّ الصَّبَا قَبلَهَا خَمرَا

    The east wind has intoxicated the curves of her boughs,

    though before her I had never reckoned the east wind as wine.

  14. هُنَالِكَ بَينَ الغُصنِ وَالقَطرِ وَالصَّبَا

    وَزَهرِ الرُّبَى وَلَّدتُ آدَابِيَ الغَرَّا

    There, among the bough, the rain, and the east wind,

    and the hills' flowers, I brought forth my radiant writings.

  15. إِذا نَظَمَ الغُصنَ الحَيَا قَالَ خَاطِرِي

    تَعَلَّم نِظَامَ النَّثرِ مِن هَهُنَا شِعرَا

    When rain strung the bough, my imagination said:

    'Learn here to arrange prose into verse.'

  16. وَإِن نَثَرَت رِيحُ الصَّبَا زَهَرَ الرُّبَى

    تَعَلَّمتُ حَلَّ الشِّعرِ أَسبِكُهُ نَثرَا

    And when the east wind scattered the flowers of the hills,

    I learned to unstring verse and cast it as prose.

  17. فَوَائِدُ أَسحَارٍ هُنَاكَ اقتَبَستُها

    وَلَم أَر رَوضاً غَيرَهُ يُقرئُ السِّحرَا

    Lessons of the predawn hours I gleaned there,

    and I have seen no other garden that teaches magic.

  18. كَأنَّ هزِيزَ الرِّيحِ يَمدَحُ رَوضَها

    فَتَملأُ فَاهَا مِن أَزَاهِرِهِ دُرَّا

    As though the wind's rustling were praising her garden,

    so she fills its mouth with pearls from the garden's blossoms.

  19. أَيَا زَنَقَاتِ الحُسنِ هَل فِيكِ نَظرةٌ

    مِنَ الجُرُفِ الأَعلَى إِلى السِّكَّةِ الغَرَّا

    O lanes of beauty, may I cast a glance within you,

    from al-Jurf al-A‘la to al-Sikka al-Gharra?

  20. فَأنظُر مِن هَذِي لِتِلكَ كَأَنَّمَا

    أُغَيِّرُ إِذ غَازَلتُها أُختَهَا الأُخرَى

    So I look from this one toward that one, as though

    in courting her I were making her other sister jealous.

  21. هِيَ الكَاعِبُ الحَسنَاءُ تُمِّمَ حُسنهَا

    وَقَدَّت لَهَا أَورَاقُها حُلَلاً خُضرَا

    She is the fair, budding maiden, her beauty perfected,

    and her leaves have cut robes of green for her.

  22. إذا خُطِبَت أَعطَت دَرَاهِمَ زَهرِهَا

    وَمَا عَادَةُ الحَسناءِ أَن تَنقُدَ المَهرَا

    When her hand is sought, she offers her blossoms' dirhams,

    though a beauty does not customarily pay the bridal dower.

  23. وَقَامَت بِعُرسِ الأُنسِ قَينَةُ أَيكِهَا

    أَغَارِيدُهَا تَستَرقِصُ الغُصُنَ النَضرَا

    And her grove's songstress performs at the wedding of delight;

    her songs make the fresh green bough dance.

  24. فَقُل فِي خَلِيجٍ يُلبِسُ الحُوتَ دِرعَهُ

    وَلَكِنَّهُ لا يَستَطِيعُ بِهَا نَصرَا

    Then speak of a canal that clothes the fish in its armor,

    though the fish can win no victory with it.

  25. إِذا مَا بَدَا فِيهَا الهِلالُ رَأيتَهُ

    كَصَفحَةِ سَيفٍ رَسمُها قُبعَةٌ صَفرَا

    When the crescent appears in it, you see it

    like the flat of a sword, its outline a yellow pommel.

  26. وَإِن لاحَ فِيهَا البَدرُ شَبَّهتَ مَتنَهُ

    بِشَطِّ لُجَينٍ ضَمَّ مِن ذَهَبٍ عَشرَا

    And if the full moon gleams in it, you liken its surface

    to a silver shore embracing ten pieces of gold.

  27. وَفِي جُرُفَي رَوضٍ هُنَاكَ تَجَافَيَا

    بِنَهرٍ يَوَدُّ الأُفقُ لَو زَارَهُ فَجرا

    And there, two banks of a garden stand apart,

    with a river the horizon longs to visit at dawn,

  28. كأَنَّهُمَا خِلَّا صَفَاءٍ تَعَاتَبَا

    وَقَد بَكيَا مِن رِقَّةٍ ذَلِكَ النَّهرَا

    as though they were two faithful friends who had reproached each other

    and out of tenderness had wept that river.

  29. وَكَم لِي بِأَبياتِ الحَدِيدِ عَشِيَّةً

    مِنَ الأُنسِ مَا فِيهِ سِوَى أَنَّهُ مَرَّا

    How many an evening I had at Abyat al-Hadid,

    of delight with no flaw save that it passed!

  30. عَشِيَّاتُ كَانَ الدَّهرُ غَضّا بِحُسنِهَا

    فَأَجلَت سِيَاطُ البَرق أفرَاسَهَا شقرَا

    Evenings whose beauty kept Time fresh and tender,

    then lightning's whips drove off their chestnut steeds.

  31. عَلَيهِنَّ أُجرِي خَيلَ دَمعِي بِوَجنَتِي

    إِذا رَكِبَت حُمراً مَيَادِينَها الصَّفرَا

    For them I set the horses of my tears running over my cheek,

    when they ride, red, over their yellow racecourses.

  32. أَعَهدِي بالغَرسِ المُنَعَّم دَوحُهُ

    سَقَتكَ دُمُوعِي إِنَّهَا مُزنَةٌ شَكرَا

    O my days at al-Ghars, whose great trees were luxuriant,

    may my tears water you: they are a raincloud of gratitude.

  33. فَكَم فِيكَ مِن يَومٍ أَغَرَّ مُحَجَّلٍ

    تَقَضَّت أَمانِيهِ فَخَلَّدتُها ذِكرَا

    How many a white-blazed, white-stockinged day you held,

    whose hopes passed, though I immortalized them in remembrance,

  34. عَلَى مُذنِبٍ كَالبَحرِ مِن فَرطِ حُسنِهِ

    تَوَدُّ الثُّرَيَّا أَن يَكُونَ لَهَا نَحرَا

    beside a sea-like watercourse so surpassingly beautiful

    that the Pleiades long for it to be their neck.

  35. سَقَت أَدمُعِي والقَطرُ أَيُّهُمَا انبَرَى

    نَقَا الرَّملَةِ البَيضَاءِ فَالنَّهرَ فَالجسرَا

    May my tears and the rain—whichever comes forth—water

    the dune of white sand, then the river, then the bridge.

  36. وَإِخوَانِ صِدقٍ لَو قَضَيتُ حُقُوقَهُم

    لَمَا فَارَقَت عَينِي وُجُوهَهُم الزُّهرَا

    And faithful friends—had I given them their due,

    my eye would never have left their radiant faces.

  37. وَلَو كُنتُ أقضِي حَقَّ نَفسِي وَلَم أَكُن

    لَمَا بِتُّ أَستَحلِي فِرَاقَهُمُ المُرَّا

    And had I given myself my due—which I did not—

    I would not have spent my nights finding their bitter parting sweet.

  38. وَمَا اختَرتُ هَذَا البُعدَ إِلا ضَرُورَةً

    وَهَل تَستَجِيزُ العَينُ أَن تَفقِدَ الشَّفرَا

    I chose this distance only out of necessity,

    and would an eye consent to lose its eyelid?

  39. قَضَى اللَّهُ أن تَنأى بِيَ الدَّارُ عَنهُمُ

    أَرَادَ بِذَاكَ اللَّهُ أَن أَعتبَ الدَّهرَا

    God decreed that my dwelling should carry me far from them;

    by this God intended me to reproach Time.

  40. وَوَاللَّهِ لَو نِلتُ المُنَى مَا حَمِدتُّهَا

    وَمَا عَادَةُ المَشغُوفِ أَن يَحمَدَ الهَجرَا

    By God, even if I gained my wishes, I would not praise them,

    for one consumed by love does not customarily praise estrangement.

  41. أَيَأنَسُ بِاللذاتِ قَلبي وَدُونَهُم

    مَرَامٍ يُجِدُّ الرَّكبُ فِي طَيِّهَا شَهرَا

    Can my heart delight in pleasures, when between me and them

    lie distances the caravan labors a month to cross,

  42. وَيَصحَبُ هَادِي اللَّيلِ رَاءً وَحَرفَهُ

    وَصاداً وَنُوناً قَد تَقَوَّسَ وَاصفَرَّا

    accompanying night's guide—a rāʾ and its edge,

    a ṣād, and a nūn grown curved and yellow?

  43. فَدَيتُهُمُ بَانوا وَضَنّوا بِكَتبِهِم

    فَلا خَبَراً مِنهُمُ لَقِيتُ وَلا خُبرَا

    May I be their ransom! They departed and withheld their letters,

    so I have found neither news of them nor firsthand knowledge.

  44. وَلَولا عَلَى هِمَّاتِهِم لَعَتَبتُهُم

    وَلَكِن عِرَابُ الخَيلِ لا تَحمِلُ الزَّجرَا

    Were it not for their lofty spirits, I would reproach them,

    but purebred Arabian horses cannot bear rebuke.

  45. ضَرَبتُ غُبَارَ البِيدِ فِي مُهرَقِ السُّرَى

    بِحَيثُ جَعَلتُ اللَّيلَ فِي ضَربِهِ حِبرَا

    I multiplied the desert dust upon the parchment of night travel,

    making night the ink for that calculation.

  46. وَحَقَّقتُ ذَاكَ الضَّربَ جَمعاً وَعِدَّةً

    وَطرحاً وَتَجمِيلاً فَأَخرَجَ لِي صِفرَا

    I verified that multiplication by addition and counting,

    by subtraction and totaling, and it yielded me zero.

  47. كأَنَّ زَمَانِي حَاسِبٌ مُتَعَسِّفٌ

    يُطَارِحُنِي كَسراً وَمَا يُحسِنُ الجَبرَا

    It is as though my time were an unjust accountant,

    who deals me fractions but has no skill in algebra.

  48. فَكَم عَارِفٍ بِي وَهوَ يَحسُدُ رُتبتِي

    فَيَمدَحُنِي سِرّاً وَيَشتمُنِي جَهرَا

    How many a man who knows me, yet envies my rank,

    praises me in secret and insults me openly.

  49. لِذَلِكَ مَا أَعطَيتُ نَفسِيَ حَقَّهَا

    وَقُلتُ لِسِربِ الشِّعرِ لا تَرُم الذِّكرَا

    For this reason I have not given myself my due,

    and told the flock of poetry: 'Do not seek renown.'

  50. فَمَا بَرِحَت فِكرِي عَذَارَى قَصَائِدِى

    وَمِن خُلُقِ العَذرَاءِ أَن تَألَفَ الخِدرَا

    So the virgins of my odes have never left my mind,

    and it is a virgin's nature to cherish her secluded chamber.

  51. وَلَستُ وَإِن طَاشَت سِهَامِي بِآيسٍ

    فَإِنَّ مَعَ العُسرِ الَّذِي يُتَّقَى يُسرَا

    I am not despairing, even if my arrows have missed,

    for with the hardship that is feared comes ease.