لَوَ أَنَّكَ شاهَدتَ الصَبا يا اِبنَ بَوزَلٍ

لَوَ أَنَّكَ شاهَدتَ الصَبا يا اِبنَ بَوزَلٍ

بِفَرعِ الغَضا إِذ راجَعَتني غَياطِلُه

بِفَرعِ الغَضا إِذ راجَعَتني غَياطِلُه

If you had witnessed youthful passion, O Ibn Bawzal,

If you had seen the young one, O son of Bazil,

at Farʿ al-Ghaḍā, when its lush thickets returned to me,

With the boughs of the soft willow when its twisting branches return me

بِأَسفَلَ خَلِّ المِلحِ إِذ دينُ ذي الهَوى

بِأَسفَلَ خَلِّ المِلحِ إِذ دينُ ذي الهَوى

مُؤَدّى وَإِذ خَيرُ الوِصالِ أَوائِلُه

مُؤَدّى وَإِذ خَيرُ الوِصالِ أَوائِلُه

at the lower end of Khall al-Milḥ, when a lover's debt

Below the salty hillock when the religion of the lovesick one

was paid, and when the best of union was its beginnings,

Is fulfilled, and the best of union is in its beginnings

لَشاهَدتَ يَوماً بَعدَ شُحطٍ مِنَ النَوى

لَشاهَدتَ يَوماً بَعدَ شُحطٍ مِنَ النَوى

وَبَعدَ ثَنائي الدارَ حُلواً شَمائِلُه

وَبَعدَ ثَنائي الدارَ حُلواً شَمائِلُه

you would have witnessed a day, after long separation,

You would have seen a day after much pining

and after my praise of the abode, sweet in its ways;

And after praising the house sweetly its qualities

وَيَوماً كَإِبهامِ القَطاةِ مُزَيَّناً

وَيَوماً كَإِبهامِ القَطاةِ مُزَيَّناً

لَعَيني ضَحاهُ غالِباً لِيَ باطِلُه

لَعَيني ضَحاهُ غالِباً لِيَ باطِلُه

and a day like a sandgrouse's thumb, made lovely

And a day like the thumb of a fortuneteller decorated

to my eye in its forenoon, its idle pleasures overpowering me.

For my eyes, overpowering its omens

بِنَفسِيَ مَن لَو مَرَّ بَردُ بَنانِهِ

بِنَفسِيَ مَن لَو مَرَّ بَردُ بَنانِهِ

عَلى كَبِدي كانَت شِفاءً أَنامِلُه

عَلى كَبِدي كانَت شِفاءً أَنامِلُه

My life for him—if the coolness of his fingers passed

By my soul, he whose cool fingertips

over my liver, his fingertips would be a cure.

Would have passed over my liver, their touching would have cured me

وَمَن هابَني في كُلِّ شَيءٍ وَهِبتُهُ

وَمَن هابَني في كُلِّ شَيءٍ وَهِبتُهُ

فَلا هُوَ يُعطيني وَلا أَنا سائِلُه

فَلا هُوَ يُعطيني وَلا أَنا سائِلُه

And for him who feared me in all things, as I feared him—

And he who I obeyed in everything and gave him

so he gives me nothing, nor do I ask him.

But he neither gives me nor do I ask of him

إِذا ما رَآني مُقبِلاً غَضَّ طَرفَهُ

إِذا ما رَآني مُقبِلاً غَضَّ طَرفَهُ

كَأَنَّ شُعاعَ الشَمسِ دوني تُقابِلُه

كَأَنَّ شُعاعَ الشَمسِ دوني تُقابِلُه

Whenever he sees me approaching, he lowers his gaze,

When he sees me coming he casts down his eyelids

as though the sun's rays stood between us, facing him.

As though the sun's rays face him and vie with him

أَلا حَبَّذا عَيناكِ يا أُمَّ شَنبَلٍ

أَلا حَبَّذا عَيناكِ يا أُمَّ شَنبَلٍ

إِذا الكُحلُ في جَفنَيهِما جالَ جائِلُه

إِذا الكُحلُ في جَفنَيهِما جالَ جائِلُه

Ah, how lovely are your eyes, O Umm Shanbal,

Oh, how excellent your eyes are, O mother of Shanbal,

when kohl's applicator glides over their two lids.

When the kohl in her eyelids flows, pouring

فَداكِ مِنَ الخِلّانِ كُلُّ مُمَزَّجٍ

فَداكِ مِنَ الخِلّانِ كُلُّ مُمَزَّجٍ

تَكونُ لِأَدنى مَن يُلاقي وَسائِلُه

تَكونُ لِأَدنى مَن يُلاقي وَسائِلُه

May every fickle one among friends be your ransom,

May you be ransomed from the smooth-cheeked ones, every blended one

whose bonds of affection go to the least of those he meets.

Who meets the lowest of those seeking him

فَرُحنا تَلَقّانا بِهِ أُمُّ شَنبَلٍ

فَرُحنا تَلَقّانا بِهِ أُمُّ شَنبَلٍ

ضُحَيّا وَأَبكَتنا عَشِيّاً أَصائِلُه

ضُحَيّا وَأَبكَتنا عَشِيّاً أَصائِلُه

So we departed; Umm Shanbal had met us that day

So we met with Umm Shanbal happily by day

early in the forenoon, and its late-afternoon hours made us weep at dusk.

And she made us cry at night with her fires

وَكُنتُ كَأَنّي حينَ كانَ كَلامُها

وَكُنتُ كَأَنّي حينَ كانَ كَلامُها

وَداعاً وَخِلّى موثِقُ العَهدِ حامِلُه

وَداعاً وَخِلّى موثِقُ العَهدِ حامِلُه

And I felt as though, when her words were

And I was as though when her words were

a farewell, and my beloved was the pledge's binder and bearer,

Farewell, and the keeper of the pact bore it

رَهينٌ بِنَفسي لَم تُفَكُّ كُبولُهُ

رَهينٌ بِنَفسي لَم تُفَكُّ كُبولُهُ

عَنِ الساقِ حَتّى جَرَّدَ السَيفَ قاتِلُه

عَنِ الساقِ حَتّى جَرَّدَ السَيفَ قاتِلُه

I were a captive, my own life the pledge, whose fetters were not loosened

A hostage with my soul, its fetters were not loosed

from his leg until his killer unsheathed the sword.

From the leg until the sword of the killer stripped him

فَقالَ دَعوني سَجدَتَينِ وَأَرعَدَت

فَقالَ دَعوني سَجدَتَينِ وَأَرعَدَت

حَذارَ الرَدى أَحشاؤُهُ وَمَفاصِلُه

حَذارَ الرَدى أَحشاؤُهُ وَمَفاصِلُه

Then the captive said, 'Allow me two prostrations,' and there trembled

So he said “Let me prostrate twice,” and his innards

for fear of death, his entrails and his joints.

Shook with fear of harm, and his joints