نأتك بليلى دارها لا تزورها — Tawbat Alkhfajy

نأتْكَ بليلى دارُها لا تَزورها

وشطّت نواها واستمَّر مريرُها

Her home has carried Layla far from you; you do not visit her.

Her separation has grown vast, and its twisted cord has tightened.

وخفت نواها من جَنوب عُنيزةٍ

كما خفّ من نيلِ المرامي جفيرُها

And her departure sped from south of Unayzah,

as a quiver lightens when its arrows are taken out.

وقال رجال لا يَضيرُكَ نأيُها

بلى كلَّ ما شفَّ النفوسَ يضيرها

And men said, 'Her distance does not harm you.'

Yes it does: whatever wears souls down harms them.

أليس يضير العينَ أنْ تكثرَ البُكا

ويمنعَ منها نومُها وسُرورُها

Does it not harm the eye to weep so much,

and to be denied its sleep and joy?

أرى اليومَ يأتي دونَ ليلى كأنما

أتى دونَ ليلى حِجةٌ وشهورُها

I see a day come without Layla, as though

a year and all its months had passed without Layla.

لكلَّ لقاءٍ نلتقيهِ بشاشةٌ

وإنْ كانَ حولا كلُّ يومٍ أزورُها

Every meeting we share has its gladness,

even if each day I visit her is a year long.

خليليَّ روحا راشدينَ فقد أتتْ

ضَرّيةُ من دون الحبيبِ فِنيرُها

My two friends, set out rightly guided, for there stands

Dariyyah and its Nir, between us and the beloved.

خليليَّ ما منْ ساعةٍ تَقفانِها

منِ الليلِ إلاّ مثلُ أخرى نَسيرُها

My two friends, no hour you spend standing

at night differs from another we spend traveling.

وقد تذهبُ الحاجاتُ يطلُبها الفتى

شَعاعا وتخشى النفسُ مالا يَضيرُها

The needs a young man seeks may slip away,

scattered, while the soul fears what cannot harm it.

وكنت إذا ما زُرتُ ليلى تبرقعتْ

فقد رابني منها الغَداةَ سُفورها

Whenever I used to visit Layla, she veiled her face;

her unveiling this morning has therefore troubled me.

خليليَّ قد عمَّ الأسى وتقاسمتْ

فنون البِلى عُشّاق ليلى ودورها

My two friends, grief has spread, and they have divided

Layla's lovers and her dwellings among them—the many forms of decay.

وَقَدْ رابني منها صُدودٌ رأيتُهُ

وأعراضُها عن حاجتي وبُسورُها

A turning away I saw in her has troubled me,

her disregard for my wish, and her frowning.

ولو أنَّ ليلى في ذُرى مُتَمنّع

بنجرانَ لالتفتْ عليَّ قصورُها

Were Layla on the heights of an impregnable stronghold

in Najran, her palaces would coil around me.

يَقَرَّ بعيني أنْ أرى العِيسَ تعتلي

بنا نَحو ليلى وهيَ تجري ضفورُها

It cools my eyes to see the pale camels climbing,

carrying us toward Layla, bounding as they run.

وما لحِقتْ حتى تقلقلَ غُرْضُها

وسامحَ من بعدِ المَراح عَسيرُها

She did not catch up until her girth was shaking,

and her stubborn gait softened after her frisking.

وأُشرفُ بالأرضِ اليفاعِ لعلَّني

أرى نارَ ليلى أو يراني بَصيرُها

I look out from the high ground, hoping

to see Layla's fire, or be seen by her lookout.

فناديتُ ليلى والحُمولُ كأنّها

مواقيرُ نخلٍ زعزعتها دَبورُها

I called to Layla, while the laden mounts seemed

like fruit-laden palms shaken by their west wind.

فقالتْ أرى أنْ لا تُفيدكَ صُحبتي

لهيبةِ أعداءٍ تَلظّى صدورُها

She said, 'I think my company will do you no good,

for dread of enemies whose breasts are ablaze.'

فمدتْ ليَ الأسبابَ حتى بلغتُها

برِفقي وقد كادَ ارتقائي يَصورُها

She stretched out ropes to me until I reached her,

gently, though my climbing nearly pulled them askew.

فلما دخلتُ الخَدرَ أطَتْ نسوعُهُ

وأطرافُ عِيدانِ شديدٍ أسُورُها

When I entered the curtained chamber, its straps creaked,

and the ends of its timbers, firm in their bindings.

فأرختْ لنضّاخ القَفا ذي مِنصةٍ

وذي سيرةٍ قد كان قِدماً يسيرُها

Then she slackened the reins for one with a sweat-streaming nape and a raised seat,

and a gait it had followed long before.

وإني ليُشفيني من الشَّوقِ أن أرى

على الشَرَفِ النائي المخوفِ أزورُها

It truly heals my longing to be seen

visiting her on a distant, fearsome height,

وأنْ أتركَ العَنْسَ الحسيرَ بأرضِها

يطيفُ بها عُقبانُها ونُسورُها

and to leave the exhausted she-camel in her land,

with the land's eagles and vultures circling her.

إلاّ إنّ ليلى قد أجدَّ بكورها

وزُمتْ غداةَ السَّبت للبين عِيرُها

But Layla's early departure has become urgent,

and on Saturday morning her caravan was bridled for parting.

فما أمُّ سَوداءِ المحاجرِ مُطفِلٌ

بأحسنَ منها مقلتينِ تُديرُها

No dark-eyed mother tending her young

has a lovelier pair of eyes to turn than hers.

أرتنا حياضَ الموتِ ليلى وراقنا

عُيونٌ نقّياتُ الحواشي تُديرُها

Layla showed us the pools of death, yet we were charmed

by the clear-rimmed eyes she turned.

ألا يا صفيَّ النَّفسِ كيفَ تنولها

لو أنَّ طريداً خائفاً يستجيرُها

Ah, dear companion of my soul, how can you win her,

if a frightened fugitive should seek refuge with her?

تُجيرُ وإن شَطتْ بها غُربةُ النَّوى

ستُنعِم يوماً أو يُفادى أسيرُها

She grants refuge, though exile has carried her far away;

one day she will show favor, or her captive will be ransomed.

وقالتْ أراكَ اليومَ أسودَ شاحباً

وأيُّ بياضِ الوجهِ حرّتْ حُرورها

She said, 'I see you today dark and wan.'

What whiteness can a face retain when fierce heat blazes?

وإن كانَ يومٌ ذو سَمومٍ أسيرهُُ

وتقصرُ من دونِ السَمومِ سُتورُها

Even on a day of scorching wind, I journey through it,

while her curtains stand between her and the scorching wind.

وغيّرني إنْ كنتِ لّما تغّيري

هواجرُ تكتنينّها وأسيرُها

What has changed me, if you have not yet changed,

is the midday heat you shelter from while I travel through it.

حمامةَ بطنِ الواديينِ إلا انعمي

سَقاكَ من الغُر الغَوادي مَطيرهُا

Dove of the bed of the two valleys, may you flourish!

May the rain-bearing, bright morning clouds water you.

أبيني لنا لا زالَ ريشُك ناعماً

ولا زلتِ في خضراءَ غَضٍّ نضيرُها

Tell us clearly; may your feathers always stay soft,

and may you always dwell in greenery whose growth is fresh and tender.

فإن سَجعتْ هاجتْ لعينيكَ عبرةً

وإنْ زفرتْ هاجَ الهوى قر قريرها

If she coos, she stirs a tear in your eyes;

if she sighs, her cooing awakens longing.

وقد زعمت ليلى بأنيَّ فاجرٌ

لنفسي تُقاها أو عليها فجورُها

Layla has claimed that I am wicked;

my soul gains from its piety, or bears its own wickedness.

فقل لعُقيلٍ ماحديثُ عِصابةٍ

تكنّفها الأعداءُ أني تَضيرها

Tell Uqayl: what is this talk of a band

hemmed in by enemies—how can you harm it?

فالاً تناَهوا تُركبُ الخيل بيننا

وركضٌ برَجْلٍ أو جناحٌ يُطيرها

Unless you desist, horses will be ridden between us,

with a kick of the foot, or a wing to make them fly.

لعلّك يا تيساً نزا في مريرةٍ

مُعاقبُ ليلى أنْ تراني أزورُها

Perhaps you, he-goat that leapt in a twisted tether,

are punishing Layla because you see me visiting her.

عليَّ دْماءُ الُبدن إن كانَ زوجُها

يرى لَي ذَنباً غيرَ أنّي أزورُها

I pledge the blood of sacrificial camels, if her husband

finds any fault in me other than that I visit her.

وإني إذا ما زرتها قلتُ يا اسلمي

فهل كانَ في قولي اسلمي ما يضيرُها

Whenever I visit her, I say, 'Ah, be well!'

Was there anything in my saying 'Be well' that could harm her?

من النّاعباتِ المشيّ نَعباً كأنّما

يُناطُ بِجذعٍ من أوالٍ جريرِها

One of the swift-striding she-camels, walking briskly, as though

her halter were hung from a tree trunk from Awal.

من العَرَكانياتِ حرفٌ كأنّها

مريرةُ ليفٍ شُدَّ شَزْراً مريرُها

A lean Arakani she-camel, as though

a palm-fiber cord, its strands pulled tightly crosswise.

قطعتُ بها أجوازَ كلَّ تَنوفةٍ

مَخوفٍ رداها حينَ يَستنَ مُورُها

On her I crossed the heart of every wilderness,

whose deadly peril is feared when its dust surges.

ترى ضُعفاءَ القومِ فيها كأنّهم

دعاميصُ ماءٍ نشَّ عنها غديرُها

You see the weak among the people there as though they were

water grubs left behind when their pool dries up.

وقسورةَ الليلِ الذي بينَ نصفهِ

وبين العِشاء قد دأبتُ أسيرُها

And through the dense darkness of night, between its midpoint

and nightfall, I have kept tirelessly traveling.

أبتْ كثرةُ الأعداء أنْ يتجنّبوا

كلابيَ حتى يُستثارَ عَقورُها

The enemies' great numbers would not let them steer clear of

my dogs, until their savage one was roused.

وما يُشتكى جهلي ولكنَّ غِرّتي

تراها بأعدائي بطِيئاً طُروُها

It is not my rashness they complain of, but my unguardedness:

you see how slowly it appears before my enemies.

أمتخرمي ريبَ المنونِ ولم أزرْ

عَذارايِ من هَمْدانَ بيضاً نُحورُها

Will you cut me off, vicissitudes of death, though I have not visited

my maidens of Hamdan, white of throat,

ينؤنَ بأعجازٍ ثِقالٍ وأسوقٍ

خَدالٍ وأقدامٍ لطافٍ خُصورُها

who rise heavily with weighty haunches and legs

plump and full, and feet with slender arches.