1. إلامَ أرامِي في المُنى وأُرادِي

    وحشو صلاحِي في الزّمان فسادِي

    How long shall I strive amid hopes and pursue them,

    While my well-being in time has my ruin at its core?

  2. وفجعِي بما نالتْ يداي موكّلٌ

    فما سرّنِي أنّي بلغتُ مرادِي

    And my bereavement is set upon whatever my hands have gained,

    So attaining my desire has brought me no joy.

  3. فكم من مصيباتٍ إذا لم يُصبنَنِي

    رواحاً وإمساءً فهنّ غوادِ

    How many calamities, if they do not strike me

    In the afternoon or evening, come at dawn.

  4. كأنّ جوادِي يومَ يطلبنِي الرّدى

    ولا ناصرٌ لِي منه غيرُ جوادِ

    As though my steed could help on the day death seeks me,

    Though I have no defender against it but a steed.

  5. ولا وَزَرٌ منه بزُرقِ أسنّتِي

    ولا بيض أسيافي وسُمرِ صِعادِي

    Nor any refuge from it in my blue spearheads,

    Nor in my white swords and brown spear shafts.

  6. أفي كلّ يومٍ يقرع الموتُ مَرْوَتِي

    ويُضرمُ أحشائي بِغَيرِ زنادِ

    Must death strike my flint every day,

    And set my entrails ablaze without a fire-striker?

  7. فيا أسهماً يمضين حول جوانبِي

    لرامِي الرّدى أنّى يُصبْنَ فؤادِي

    O arrows that fly all around my sides,

    From death's archer—how do they strike my heart?

  8. فرُزْءٌ على رُزءٍ وفجعٌ يُبيتنِي

    على حَرِّ جمرٍ أو فِراشِ قَتادِ

    Loss upon loss, and bereavement, make me spend the night

    On burning embers or a bed of thornbush.

  9. وَهَل طَمَعِي في العيشِ إلّا جَهالةٌ

    وفي كفّ روّادِ الحِمامِ قيادِي

    Is my hope of living anything but folly,

    When my rein lies in the hand of death's scouts?

  10. يُسارُ بنا في كلِّ يومٍ وليلةٍ

    إِلى حُفَرٍ تُطوى لنا بوهادِ

    We are led along every day and night

    Toward pits lined for us in low-lying ground.

  11. وما نافِعِي في هذه الدَّار مرّةً

    بناءُ أهاضيبي ورفعُ عِمادِي

    Never in this abode will it profit me

    To build up my rocky heights and raise my pillars.

  12. فَيا قُربَ بين الفقرِ فيها مِنَ الغِنى

    وَبينَ اِزدِراعِي تارةً وحصادِي

    How short the gap here between poverty and wealth,

    And between my sowing one time and my reaping!

  13. وَما إِنْ وَفى غيثُ الرّدى في أصادقِي

    بأنْ عَلِقَتْ يمناهُ لِي بأعادِ

    Death's rain has not made amends for my friends

    By its right hand seizing enemies for my sake.

  14. وَمَن كانَ يُردي ذا حذارٍ وفطنةٍ

    فماذا ملامُ المهمِل المتمادِي

    And if it slays one endowed with caution and discernment,

    Why blame the heedless man who persists?

  15. سَلِ الدّهرَ عن سادات لَخْمٍ وحِمْيَرٍ

    وأبناءِ نَهْدٍ بعدهمْ ومُرادِ

    Ask time about the lords of Lakhm and Himyar,

    And, after them, the sons of Nahd and Murad.

  16. وَهَل بَقيتْ للعين والقلبِ بهجةٌ

    بهوجِ اللّيالِي في ديارِ إيادِ

    Has any delight remained for the eye and heart

    Amid the nights' fury in the dwellings of Iyad?

  17. وَهَل تَرَكتْ أَيدي الرّدى مِن مُخبّرٍ

    لآلِ نِزارٍ كلَّ يومِ تَنادِ

    Have the hands of death left any bearer of news

    For Nizar's house on each day of calling?

  18. وَلَو كنتُ مَوعوظاً بِشيءِ عَرفته

    يُقلِّلُ حِرصِي لاِتَّعظتُ بعادِ

    Had I taken warning from anything I knew

    That lessened my craving, I would have taken warning from 'Ad.

  19. مَضوا بعدَ أَن كانوا يُظنّ بقاؤهم

    يكون على الدّنيا بغير نفادِ

    They passed away, after their continued existence was thought

    To endure in this world without end.

  20. وقد قلّدوا الأعناقَ منَّا وأترعوا

    بطون الّليالي من لُهاً وأيادِ

    They had garlanded necks with bounty and filled

    The bellies of the nights with gifts and favors.

  21. فَيا هبةَ اللَّهِ اِرتُجعتَ إلى الرّدى

    وقد كنت في فضلٍ ذُبالةَ نادِ

    O Hibat Allah, you have been reclaimed by death,

    Though in virtue you had been the assembly's lamp-wick.

  22. وما زلتَ خرّاجاً عن الغيّ والهوى

    مَدَى الدّهرِ ولّاجاً لكلِّ رشادِ

    You were always turning away from error and passion,

    All your days, entering every way of right guidance.

  23. وَكُنتَ لِعَينِي ثمّ قلبِي سوادَه

    وليس بياضٌ فيهما كسوادِ

    You were the black center of my eye, then of my heart;

    No whiteness in either could rival that blackness.

  24. فَواللَّهِ ما أَدرِي أغال نعيُّهُ

    رُقادِيَ حُزْناً أم أطارَ فؤادِي

    By God, I do not know: did the news of his death steal

    My sleep through grief, or send my heart flying?

  25. على أنّه ذرّ الأسى في جوانحِي

    وَأَودعَ منّي في الجفونِ سُهادِي

    Yet it scattered sorrow among my ribs,

    And lodged my sleeplessness within my eyelids.

  26. وما ضرّنِي والنّومُ ليس يزورنِي

    دجىً وضحىً أنِّي بغير وِسادِ

    It does not trouble me, when sleep never visits me,

    In night-darkness or morning light, that I have no pillow.

  27. فإنْ لم أعِرْ جسمِي عليك حِدادَه

    فَقلبِيَ حزناً في ثيابِ حِدادِ

    If I have not lent my body its mourning garb for you,

    My heart, in sorrow, wears mourning clothes.

  28. وَللَّهِ خَطبٌ زارني بعد هجعةٍ

    فحرّم في عينَيَّ طعمَ رُقادِي

    What a calamity, by God, visited me after a brief sleep,

    And denied my eyes the taste of slumber.

  29. وَشرّد عنّي باِصطِبارٍ عهدتُه

    وَأَحرج حَيزومِي وأضعف آدِي

    It drove away from me the patience I had known,

    Constricted my chest, and weakened my strength.

  30. وَعَرّف ما بينِي وَبيَن بلابلٍ

    عمرتُ وما يمررن لِي ببلادِ

    And made me familiar with anxieties

    That, throughout my life, had never passed through my land.

  31. كَأنّي قَضيضُ الجنبِ حزناً ولوعةً

    وفَرشي مهيداتٍ بغير مهادِ

    As though my side lay on gravel, in grief and anguish,

    And my bedding were torment, with no place of rest.

  32. ويا ليتني لمّا ثكلتُك لم أكن

    جعلتك من سكّانِ دار ودادِي

    Would that, when I lost you, I had never

    Made you a dweller in the house of my love.

  33. وليتك لم تحلُلْ رِكابُك عَقْوَتِي

    تُراوِحها صبّاً بِها وَتغادِي

    Would that your riding-camels had never alighted in my courtyard,

    As you visited it at evening, enamored of it, and again at dawn.

  34. وَما بَينَ قُربٍ وَاِشتِياقٍ عهدتُه

    حَوَتْ أضلُعِي فرقٌ وبين بعادِي

    Between nearness and the longing I had known,

    Held within my ribs, and my separation, there is no difference.

  35. سَقى اللَّهُ مَيْتاً لا يُرجّى إيابُه

    وَحلَّ عليه رَبْطَ كلِّ مَزادِ

    May God water a dead man whose return is beyond hope,

    And loosen over him the ties of every waterskin.

  36. وَجادَ عليهِ كلُّ أسحمَ مسبلٍ

    بعَذْبٍ صقيلِ الطُّرتين بُرادِ

    May every dark, rain-pouring cloud drench him generously

    With sweet water, gleaming at both edges and cool.

  37. لَهُ مِن وَميضِ البرقِ ثوبٌ مَعَصْفَرٌ

    وَمِن رَعدِه وهناً زماجرُ حادِ

    From lightning's flash it has a safflower-dyed robe,

    And from its thunder at night, a camel-driver's roars.

  38. وَلا زالَتِ الأنواءُ يسقين تُربَه

    إذا رائحٌ ولّى تصوّب غادِ

    May the seasonal rains never cease to water his dust:

    Whenever an evening cloud departs, a morning one pours down.

  39. بلا موعدٍ تَخشى له النَّفس خُلفةً

    وَخَيرُ اللُّها ما لم تكنْ بوعادِ

    Without a promise whose breaking the soul would fear;

    The best gifts are those that come without promises.