رَأَيتُ بِجَنبِ الخَيفِ هِنداً فَراقَني

رَأَيتُ بِجَنبِ الخَيفِ هِنداً فَراقَني

لَها جيدُ ريمٍ زَيَّنَتهُ الصَرائِمُ

لَها جيدُ ريمٍ زَيَّنَتهُ الصَرائِمُ

I saw Hind beside al-Khayf, and was charmed

Beside the tent I saw a maiden who then left me,

By her neck, a white gazelle’s, graced by sand dunes,

She has a smooth cheek adorned with moles,

وَذو أُشُرٍ عَذبٌ كَأَنَّ نَباتَهُ

وَذو أُشُرٍ عَذبٌ كَأَنَّ نَباتَهُ

جَنى أُقحُوانٍ نَبتُهُ مُتَناعِمُ

جَنى أُقحُوانٍ نَبتُهُ مُتَناعِمُ

And a sweet mouth with serrated teeth, whose growth seems

And a sweet mouth as if its vegetation

Like daisy blossoms, tender and lush in their growth.

Were nourished by spring rains in fertile soil.

نَظَرتُ إِلَيها بِالمُحَصَّبِ مِن مِنىً

نَظَرتُ إِلَيها بِالمُحَصَّبِ مِن مِنىً

وَلي نَظَرٌ لَولا التَحَرُّجُ عارِمُ

وَلي نَظَرٌ لَولا التَحَرُّجُ عارِمُ

I gazed at her at al-Muhassab in Mina,

I looked at her from Mina with desire

And, but for fear of sin, my gaze would be unrestrained.

My looks would have been indecent, were it not for my self-restraint.

فَقُلتُ أَشَمسٌ أَم مَصابيحُ بَيعَةٍ

فَقُلتُ أَشَمسٌ أَم مَصابيحُ بَيعَةٍ

بَدَت لَكَ تَحتَ السِجفِ أَم أَنتَ حالِمُ

بَدَت لَكَ تَحتَ السِجفِ أَم أَنتَ حالِمُ

I said, 'Is that a sun, or the lamps of a church,

I said, “Is it the sun or lamps from the vale of Bai’a

Appearing to you beneath the curtain—or are you dreaming?'

That seemed to rise to you from below the tent, or are you dreaming?”

مُهَفهَفَةٌ غَرّاءُ صُفرٌ وِشاحُها

مُهَفهَفَةٌ غَرّاءُ صُفرٌ وِشاحُها

وَفي المِرطِ مِنها أَهيَلٌ مُتَراكِمُ

وَفي المِرطِ مِنها أَهيَلٌ مُتَراكِمُ

Slender and radiant, her sash hangs loose,

She was a fawn, yellow is her veil,

And within her mantle, a heaped-up dune of soft sand.

And in the headcloth were snaky curls.

بَعيدَةُ مَهوى القُرطِ إِمّا لِنَوفَلٍ

بَعيدَةُ مَهوى القُرطِ إِمّا لِنَوفَلٍ

أَبوها وَإِمّا عَبدُ شَمسٍ وَهاشِمُ

أَبوها وَإِمّا عَبدُ شَمسٍ وَهاشِمُ

Long is her earring’s fall; either to Nawfal

She is of a far lineage—of Nawfal

Her father belongs, or to ‘Abd Shams and Hashim.

Or a servant of Hashim—never of Abd Shams.

وَمَدَّ عَلَيها السَجفَ يَومَ لَقيتُها

وَمَدَّ عَلَيها السَجفَ يَومَ لَقيتُها

عَلى عَجَلٍ تُبّاعُها وَالخَوادِمُ

عَلى عَجَلٍ تُبّاعُها وَالخَوادِمُ

And they drew the curtain over her the day I met her—

The day I met her she had stretched over her

Her attendants and serving women, in haste.

A camel-litter, while slave girls walked beside.

فَلَم أَستَطِعها غَيرَ أَن قَد بَدا لَنا

فَلَم أَستَطِعها غَيرَ أَن قَد بَدا لَنا

عَشِيَّةَ راحَت كَفُّها وَالمَعاصِمُ

عَشِيَّةَ راحَت كَفُّها وَالمَعاصِمُ

So I could not reach her; all that we glimpsed was

I could not get near her, though at evening we found

Her hand and wrists, that evening as she left.

Her caravan halting, and the litters being lowered.

مَعاصِمُ لَم تَضرِب عَلى البَهمِ بِالضُحى

مَعاصِمُ لَم تَضرِب عَلى البَهمِ بِالضُحى

عَصاها وَوَجهٌ لَم تَلُحهُ السَمائِمُ

عَصاها وَوَجهٌ لَم تَلُحهُ السَمائِمُ

Wrists that had never struck at lambs and kids in the forenoon

Litters whose carriers at dawn never struck the camels

With her staff, and a face never scorched by burning winds.

With their staffs, and a face the winds never blew on.

نَضيرٌ تَرى فيهِ أَساريعَ مائِهِ

نَضيرٌ تَرى فيهِ أَساريعَ مائِهِ

صَبيحٌ تُغاديهِ الأَكُفُّ النَواعِمُ

صَبيحٌ تُغاديهِ الأَكُفُّ النَواعِمُ

Fresh—you see in it the rivulets of its radiance—

A lovely gazelle you would see among them

Lovely, tended each morning by soft hands.

A morning whose soft hands the zephyrs were fondling.

إِذا ما دَعَت أَترابَها فَاِكتَنَفنَها

إِذا ما دَعَت أَترابَها فَاِكتَنَفنَها

تَمايَلنَ أَو مالَت بِهِنَّ المَآكِمُ

تَمايَلنَ أَو مالَت بِهِنَّ المَآكِمُ

When she calls her companions of her own age, and they surround her,

When she called her companions they pressed about her,

They sway—or their full hips make them sway.

Swaying as she swayed, or following where she led.

طَلَبنَ الصِبا حَتّى إِذا ما أَصَبنَهُ

طَلَبنَ الصِبا حَتّى إِذا ما أَصَبنَهُ

نَزَعنَ وَهُنَّ المُسلِماتُ الظَوالِمُ

نَزَعنَ وَهُنَّ المُسلِماتُ الظَوالِمُ

They sought youthful passion until, once they had found it,

They sought the brethren of the east wind until when

They drew back—abandoning their lovers, doing them wrong.

They had found his brethren their veils slipped from them.

فَذَكَّرتُها داءً قَديماً مُخامِراً

فَذَكَّرتُها داءً قَديماً مُخامِراً

تَقَطَّعَ مِنهُ إِن ذَكَرنَ الحَيازِمُ

تَقَطَّعَ مِنهُ إِن ذَكَرنَ الحَيازِمُ

So I reminded her of an old, deep-seated affliction,

I reminded her of a chronic malady

Which rends the chest whenever they recall it.

That breaks afresh when the censors are harsh.

وَقُربُكِ لا يُجدى عَلَيَّ وَنَأيُكُم

وَقُربُكِ لا يُجدى عَلَيَّ وَنَأيُكُم

جَوىً داخِلٌ في القَلبِ يا هِندُ لازِمُ

جَوىً داخِلٌ في القَلبِ يا هِندُ لازِمُ

Your nearness does me no good, and your distance

“Your nearness profits me naught, and your distance

Is anguish lodged in the heart, O Hind, unceasing.

Is a piercing inner pain, O maiden of Hind!”

فَإِن بِنتِ كَدَّرتِ المَعاشَ صَبابَةً

فَإِن بِنتِ كَدَّرتِ المَعاشَ صَبابَةً

وَإِن تَصقَبي فَالقَلبِ حَيرانُ هائِمُ

وَإِن تَصقَبي فَالقَلبِ حَيرانُ هائِمُ

So if you leave, you cloud life with yearning;

If the daughter of Kaddar has troubled my life

And if you draw near, the heart is bewildered, lost in love.

And if she is absent my heart is desolate, wandering.

وَقَد زَعَمَت أَنَّ الَّذي وَجَدَت بِنا

وَقَد زَعَمَت أَنَّ الَّذي وَجَدَت بِنا

مُقيمٌ لَنا في أَسوَدِ القَلبِ دائِمُ

مُقيمٌ لَنا في أَسوَدِ القَلبِ دائِمُ

And she has said that what she felt for us

And she claimed that what she found in me

Abides for us in the heart’s dark core forever.

Would remain fixed in my heart, ever present.