ﻤﻌﻠﻘﺔ ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ Mu’allaqat Imru’ul Qays [1]

إﻋﺪاد: اﻟﺪآﺘﻮر اﺑﺮاهﻴﻢ اﻟﻤﻤﻴﺰ

1- ﻗﹶﻔﺎ ﻨ ﺒ ﻙِ ﻤﻥ ﺫﻜﺭﻯ ﺤﺒﻴﺏٍ ﻭﻤﻨﺯل ِ ﺒِ ﺴ ﻘﹾ ﻁِ ﺍﻟﻠﱢﻭﻯ ﺒﻴﻥ ﺍﻟﺩﺨﻭل ﻓﺤﻭﻤل ِ 1- Let’s halt! And on th’ abode of loved ones weep Where ‘tween “Dukhool” and “Hawmal” sands pile deep.

2- ﻓﹶ ﺘ ﻭ ﻀِ ﺢ ﻓﺎﻟﻤِﻘﺭﺍﺓِ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻌ ـ ﻑﹸ ﺭ ﺴ ﻤﻬﺎ ﻟﻤﺎ ﻨﺴﺠﺘـْﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻨ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻭﺸﹶﻤﺄل ِ 2- “Towdah” and “al-Miqrat” e’er there will lay Sands “Kibla” winds pile; “Meccan” blow away.1

3- ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺒ ﻌ ﺭ ﺍﻷﺭﺁﻡ ﻓﻲ ﻋ ﺭ ﺼ ﺎ ﺘِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻭﻗﻴﻌﺎﻨﻬﺎ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻪ ﺤ ﺏ ﻓـُﻠـْـﻔـُـل ِ 3- There, oryx droppings are life’s only trace As if they’re pepper seeds in open space

4- ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﻏﹶ ﺩ ﺍ ﺓﹶ ﺍﻟﺒﻴﻥِ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺘﹶﺤﻤﻠﻭﺍ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺴ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻨ ﺎ ﻗِ ﻑﹸ ﺤﻨﹾﻅﹶل ِ 4- They’d gone. Alone I felt that I will lead The life of pickers of bitter-apple seed2

5- ﻭﻗﻭﻓﺎﹰ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺼﺤﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤ ﻁِ ﻴ ﻬ ﻡ ﻴﻘﻭﻟﻭﻥ ﻻ ﺘﻬﻠﻙ ﺃ ﺴ ﻰ ﻭﺘﹶﺠﻤل ِ 5- My mounted friends call out, in cheer, to me “Die not of grief! Well armed with patience be”.

6- ﻭ ﺇ ﻥ ﺸِﻔﺎﺌﻲ ﻋ ﺒ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻤﻬﺭﺍﻗﹶﺔ ٌ ﻓ ﻬ لْ ﻋﻨﺩ ﺭ ﺴ ﻡٍ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺱٍ ﻤﻥ ﻤﻐﻭل ِ 6- At ruins, I’m relieved when falls my tear

1 The locations “Towdah” and “al-Miqrat” are subjected to conflicting winds. “Kibla” winds bury the two locations in sand which “Meccan” winds blow away again, revealing traces of the deserted dwellings; distressing, says the poet, for him to observe. It would have been more comforting, he implies, if all traces of these habitations were obliterated, saving him the distress of viewing the ruins and the memories they still hold. 2 “Bitter-apple” or “handhal” is a poisonously bitter desert apple-like growth whose seed is picked out by professional pickers for medicinal and incense use. Slicing bitter-apple causes - like onions - tear-flow. He, like the pickers, will suffer an endless flow of tears. The bitterness of handhal reflects his own bitterness at the departure of loved ones. The seed, he hopes, would provide medicine for his ailment and incense for his sorrows. For none are there my sorrows for to cheer.3

7- ﻜ ﺩ ﺃ ﺒ ﻙ ﻤﻥ ﺃﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺙِ ﻗﺒﻠﻬﺎ ﻭﺠﺎﺭﺘﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﺎﺏِ ﺒﻤﺄﺴـل ِ 7- Your love for her who here in yore did dwell Lacked luck; as when in former love you fell4

8- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﺎﻤﺘﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻀ ﻭ ﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙ ﻤﻨﻬﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﻴ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﺠﺎﺀﺕ ﺒﺭﻴﺎ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﺭﻨـْـﻔـُل ِ 8- When belles arise, their musk so sweet and true like carnations o’er which morn breezes blew.

9- ﻓ ﻔ ﺎ ﻀ ﺕﹾ ﺩ ﻤ ﻭ ﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻤﻨﻲ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒ ﺔﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨ ﺤ ﺭِ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺒ لّ ﺩﻤﻌﻲ ﻤﺤﻤﻠﻲ 9- My streaming tears the pangs of love had felt Their streams bedrenched me full, e’en my sword-belt.

10- ﺃﻻ ﺭ ﺏ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻟ ﻙ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﺼ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺢٍ ﻭﻻ ﺴﻴﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﺒ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﺓِ ﺠﻠﹾﺠل ِ 10- O for a day as that I once had spent When maids to “Juljul” for an outing went.

11- ﻭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﻋ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻠﻌﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻤ ﻁِ ﻴ ﺘ ﻲ ﻓﻴﺎ ﻋ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﻜﻭﺭﻫﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﹶﺤﻤل ِ 11- That day I slew my mount for th’virgins’ sake They each some things of mine back home did take5

12- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻴﺭﺘﻤﻴﻥ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺤ ﻡٍ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﺩ ﺍ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻤ ﻘ ﺱِ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﹶﺘﹼل ِ 12- Each claimed the mount was slain for her alone It’s white o’er flesh like silks that on them shone6

13- ﻭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺩ ﺨ ﻠ ﺕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨِ ﺩ ﺭ ﺨِﺩﺭ ﻋﻨﹶﻴﺯ ﺓٍ ﻓﻘﺎﻟﺕ ﻟﹶ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻭﻴﻼﺕ ﺍ ﻨﹼ ﻙ ﻤﺭﺠﻠﻲ 13- I slipped in “Unaiza’s” hawdah. She cried: “you’ll harm my mount and make me walk ‘longside”7

3 He could shed a tear in privacy without the embarrassment of consoling company. 4 The verse identifies the loved one as “Umm al-Huwayrith”. “The former love” is “Umm al- Rabab” - both, apparently, married women. 5 Having sacrificed his mount to feed them, and having no mount to return home on, each of the girls offered to carry some of his belongings home with her, as a gesture of gratitude and to keep as a momento. 6 The verse identifies “silks” as “twisted silk braid”.

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14- ﺘﻘﻭل ﻭﻗﺩ ﻤ ﺎ لَ ﺍﻟﻐﺒﻴﻁ ﺒﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻋ ﻘ ﺭ ﺕﹶ ﺒﻌﻴﺭﻱ ﻴﺎ ﺍﻤﺭﺃ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ ﻓﺎﻨﺯِل ِ 14- Her howdah, with my weight, tilted aside. “Imru’ul Qays! Get you down quick” she cried.

15- ﻓ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺴﻴﺭﻱ ﻭﺃﺭﺨﻲ ﺯ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤ ﻪ ﻭﻻ ﺘﹸﺒﻌﺩﻴﻨﻲ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻨ ﺎ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻠﱠل ِ 15- “Let go the reins” said I “Be calm and still Let me of your kisses have what I will”

16- ﻓ ﻤ ﺜ ﻠِ ﻙِ ﺤﺒﻠﻰ ﻗﺩ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﻀ ﻊٍ ﻓﺄﻟﻬﻴﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻋﻥ ﺫﻱ ﺘ ﻤ ﺎ ﺌ ﻡ ﻤﺤﻭِل ِ 16- Pregnant, nursing mothers I’ve loved, through tact. And did, through wiles, from their own babes, distract.

17- ﺍﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺒﻜﻰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶﻠﹾﻔِﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﺼ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻟﻪ ﺒِ ﺸِ ﻕﱟ ﻭﺤﺘﻰ ﺸِﻘﱡﻬﺎ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺤﻭل ِ 17- When, from behind, wailed loud her tiny tot She nursed it, yet forgot to love me not.

18- ﻭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﺍﻟﻜﹶﺜﻴﺏِ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺫ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻠ ﻲ ﻭﺁﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﺤ ﻠﹾ ﻔﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻟﻡ ﺘﹶﺤﻠﹶل ِ 18- Over a dune, me she once resisted. In vowing loudest oaths, she persisted.

19- ﺃ ﻓ ﺎ ﻁِ ﻡ ﻤ ﻬ ﻼﹰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺽ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﹼ ﺩ ﻟﱡ لِ ﻭﺇﻥ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕِ ﻗﺩ ﺃﺯﻤﻌﺕِ ﺼﺭﻤﻲ ﻓﺄﺠﻤﻠﻲ 19- “Do from you coyness, Fatima, desist8 or leave me, and on being coy, insist”.

20- ﺃ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﻙِ ﻤﻨﻲ ﺃﻥ ﺤ ﺒ ﻙِ ﻗﺎﺘﻠﻲ ﻭ ﺃ ﻨﹼ ﻙِ ﻤﻬﻤﺎ ﺘﺄﻤﺭﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﻴﻔﹾﻌل ِ 20- You’ve turned vain, now that by you’re love I’m slain.

7 “ al-Firazdaq” narrating of his grandfather, reported that Imru’ul Qays loved his cousin ‘Unaiza. He asked for her hand but her family declined, due to his reputation as a womanizing libertine. A group of girls, including ‘Unaiza, went on a day’s outing to “Juljul” springs. Having dismissed their servants, they were bathing in the spring when Imru’ul Qays came upon them. He collected their clothes, refusing to hand them over till each girl emerged from the spring to collect her clothes herself. The last one to do so was ‘Unaiza”. Later that day the girls complained of hunger. Imru’ul Qays killed his mount to feed them grilled meat. Late in the evening he mounted with ‘Unaiza on her camel, and delivered her safely home. This line of verse describes how he got in her howdah. “Mohammad Abu al-Fadhl Ibrahim- “Diwan Imru’ul Qays” Cairo (1958 ed.) p. 10. 8 Fatima: the name of the nursing mother. `Unaiza’s proper name was also Fatima; ‘Unaiza-kid- was nickname.

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Command my heart. Servant it shall remain.

21- ﻭﺇﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻙ ﻗﺩ ﺴ ﺎ ﺀ ﺘ ﻙ ﻤﻨﻲ ﺨﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻓﹶﺴﻠﹼﻲ ﺜﻴﺎﺒﻲ ﻤﻥ ﺜﻴﺎﺒﻙِ ﺘﹶﻨﹾﺴل ِ 21- If you I offended, then do depart You I’ll obey; though it may break my heart.9

22- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺫﹶ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻙِ ﺇﻻ ﻟﺘﹶﻀﺭِﺒﻲ ﺒﺴﻬﻤﻴﻙِ ﻓﻲ ﺃﻋﺸﺎﺭ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏٍ ﻤﻘﹶﺘل ِ 22- You weep well, not to comfort your sorrows But at my broken heart, to shoot arrows.

23- ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺔِ ﺨﹶ ﺩ ﺭٍ ﻻ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡ ﺨِﺒﺎﺅﻫﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺘﱠ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻥ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻭٍ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤﻌﺠل ٍ 23- She was an egg; unbroken, white, unsoiled. In howdah’s nest. I broke and it enjoyed.

24- ﺘ ﺠ ﺎ ﻭ ﺯ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﺤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻭﻤﻌﺸﹶﺭﺍﹰ ﻋ ﻠ ﻲ ﺤِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺼ ﺎﹰ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ ﻭ ﻥ ﻤﻘﹾﺘﹶﻠﻲ 24- To visit her, her guards in stealth I braved If me they’d caught, they’d gladly me have slayed.

25- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺜﺭﻴﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﻤﺎﺀِ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺭ ﻀ ﺕﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺭ ﺽ ﺍﺜﻨﺎﺀ ﺍﻟﻭﺸﺎﺡ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﹶﺼل ِ 25- To her I went, when night o’er stars unfurled As dark nightgown is broidered and impearled

26- ﻓﹶ ﺠِ ﺌْ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﻀ ﺕﹾ ﻟ ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﺜﻴﺎﺒﻬﺎ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺘ ﺭِ ﺇﻻ ﻟِ ﺒ ﺴ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﹶﻔﹶﻀل ِ 26- Behind a curtain, lightly clad, in wait She stood as I came at an hour so late.

27- ﻓﹶﻘﺎﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﻴﻤﻴﻥ ﺍﷲ ﻤﺎﻟﻙ ﺤ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻭﻤﺎ ﺇﻥ ﺍﺭﻯ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐ ﻭ ﺍ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﺘﹶﻨﹾﺠﻠﻲ 27- “By God” said she “your scandal comes so late. No means have I your passions to abate”.

28- ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﺠ ﺕﹸ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺃﻤﺸﻲ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﺭ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻨﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺜﹶﺭﻴﻨﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻴ لَ ﻤِ ﺭ ﻁٍ ﻤﺭﺤل ِ

9 The verse here refers to clothes to mean the heart. The verse implies that if I have offended you, then take my clothes (my heart) from your clothes(your heart), you’ll find the removal to be easy, for you, but it will cause me great pain and a traumatic heart break.

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28- With her I walked, and she, without delay With her gown’s train, our footprints wiped away

29- ﻓﹶﻠﻤﺎ ﺃﺠﺯﻨﺎ ﺴ ﺎ ﺤ ﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻭﺍﻨﺘﺤﻰ ﺒﻨﺎ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﻥ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺕٍ ﺫﻱ ﺤِ ﻘ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻋﻘﹶﻨﻘﹶل ِ 29- The still compound, at last, was far behind. Quiet we stood, in pleasure to unwind.

30- ﻫ ﺼ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻔ ﻭ ﺩ ﻱ ﺭﺃﺴﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻠ ﻲ ﻫ ﻀ ﻴ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺢِ ﺭﻴﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﺨﹶﻠﹾﺨﹶل ِ 30- To me I drew her temples, then she swayed With ankles fine, full thighs, slim waist - she laid.

31- ﻤ ﻬ ﻔﹾ ﻬ ﻔﹶ ﺔﹲ ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﻔ ﺎ ﻀ ﺔٍ ﺘﺭﺍﺌِﺒﻬﺎ ﻤ ﺼ ﻘ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻜﺎﻟﺴﺠﻨﹾﺠل ِ 31- Her waist and belly; smooth they were and tight. Her chest a glittering mirror abright.

32- ﻜﹶ ﺒِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﺍﻟﻤﻘﺎﻨﺎﺓِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻴ ﺎ ﺽِ ﺒ ﺼ ﻔ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻏﹶﺫﺍﻫﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﺤﻠﱠل ِ 32- In depths of seas, lie yell’wish-white pearls. In love’s fluids, my pearl from clam unfurls.

33- ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﺩ ﻭﺘﹸﺒﺩﻱ ﻋﻥ ﺃﺴﻴلٍ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻘ ﻲ ﺒِ ﻨ ﺎ ﻁ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻤﻥ ﻭﺤﺵ ﻭ ﺠ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﻤﻁﹾﻔﹶل ِ 33- When shying off, she turns the softest cheek. Like hind with fawn, her welc’ming eyes are meek.

34- ﻭ ﺠ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﺭﺌﻡ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒ ﻔ ﺎ ﺤ ﺵٍ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻫﻲ ﻨ ﺼ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﻭﻻ ﺒﻤﻌﻁﱠل ِ 34- Her slender neck: no jewels does it wear Is oryx-like; its beauty white and bare.

35- ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﻉٍ ﻴ ﺯ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺘ ﻥ ﺃ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻓ ﺎ ﺤِ ﻡٍ ﺍﺜﻴﺙٍ ﻜﹶ ﻘِ ﻨﹾ ﻭِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﹶﻌﺘﻜِل ِ 35- Her back is cov’red with coal-black hair well-dressed Her plaits, like palmy shoots, are wound and pressed.

36- ﻏﹶﺩﺍﺌﺭﻫﺎ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘ ﺸ ﺯ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕﹲ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﻌﻼ ﺘﹶ ﻀِ لﱡ ﺍﻟﻌِﻘﺎﺹ ﻓﻲ ﻤﺜﻨﻰ ﻭﻤﺭﺴل ِ 36- Her locks, her plaits; with care they all are dressed. Straight down some flow, some on her crown do rest.

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37- ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺢِ ﻟﹶ ﻁ ﻴ ﻑٍ ﻜﺎﻟﺠﺩﻴلِ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﺼ ﺭٍ ﻭﺴﺎﻕٍ ﻜﺄﻨﺒﻭﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻘ ﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﺫﹶﻟﹼل ِ 37- That waist! Those legs as if by craft well made Luscious as reeds in laden palms cool shade.

38- ﻭﺘﹸﻀﺤﻲ ﻓﹶﺘﻴﺕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙِ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﻓﺭﺍﺸﻬﺎ ﻨﺅﻭﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀﺤﻰ ﻟﻡ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺘ ﻁِ ﻕِ ﻋﻥ ﺘﹶﻔﹶﻀل ِ 38- She rises late from bed scented with musk Pampered, well-served is she, from dawn to dusk.

39- ﻭﺘﹶﻌﻁﻭﺍ ﺒِ ﺭ ﺨﹾ ﺹٍ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺸﹶ ﺜﹾ ﻥٍ ﻜﺄﻨﻪ ﺍ ﺴ ﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﻊ ﻅﺒﻲ ﺍﻭ ﻤِ ﺴِ ﺎ ﻭ ﻴ ﻙ ﺃﺴﺤل ِ 39- She picks with fingers, slender long and soft, Like straightsome shoots on ’As-hal” trees aloft.10

40- ﺘﻀﻲﺀ ﺍﻟﻅﹶﻼﻡ ﺒﺎﻟﻌِﺸﺎﺀِ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻨ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﻤﻤﺴﻲ ﺭ ﺍ ﻫِ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺘﱢ لِ 40- In darkest nights, aglow’s her face with light A praying monk’s lit lantern, burning bright

41- ﺇﻟﻰ ﻤﺜﹾﻠِﻬﺎ ﻴﺭﻨﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻠ ﻴ ﻡ ﺼﺒﺎﺒﺔﹰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﺴ ﺒ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺒﻴﻥ ﺩ ﺭ ﻉِ ﻭ ﻤِ ﺠ ﻭِ لِ 41- To her wise hearts gallantly have behaved . Her clothes are those ‘tween that of child and maid.

42- ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﻠﹼ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻤﺎﻴﺎﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﺭﺠﺎلِ ﻋ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﻭﻟﻴﺱ ﻓﺅﺍﺩﻱ ﻋﻥ ﻫ ﻭ ﺍ ﻙِ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨ ﺴ لِ 42- Gallants’ attentions fore’er do not last. My love for her, in spite of time, stands fast.

43- ﺃﻻ ﺭ ﺏ ﺨﹶ ﺼ ﻡٍ ﻓ ﻴ ﻙِ ﺃﻟﻭﻯ ﺭ ﺩ ﺩ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻨ ﺼ ﻴ ﺢِ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺘِﻌﺫﺍﻟﻪ ﻏﻴﺭ ﻤﺅﺘﹶل ِ 43- My bitter foes my love have so reviled. Yet I persist, spite whom my love defiled.

44- ﻭﻟﹶﻴلٍ ﻜ ﻤ ﻭ ﺝِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺤ ﺭِ ﺃﺭﺨﻰ ﺴ ﺩ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻋ ﻠ ﻲ ﺒ ﺄ ﻨ ﻭ ﺍ ﻉِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻤ ﻭ ﻡِ ﻟﻴﺒﺘﹶﻠﻲ 44- Like heavy waves, long nights ‘pon me descend. Am weighed with cares yet longer nights extend.

45- ﻓ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻪ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻤﻁﻰ ﺒِ ﺼ ﻠﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﺩ ﻑﹶ ﺃ ﻋ ﺠ ﺎ ﺯ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺀ ﺒِﻜﹶﻠﹾﻜﹶل ِ

10 “Ashal”: a species of tree known for its dead-straight shoots that grow higher up the tree.

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45- I, to the darkness of the night complained. The carefree find it brief; the care-worn, strained.

46- ﺃﻻ ﺃﻴﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﹼﻠﻴلُ ﺍﻟﻁﹼﻭﻴلُ ﺃﻻ ﺍﻨﺠﻠﻲ ﺒِ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢٍ ﻭﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻹ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺡ ﻋ ﻨ ﻙ ﺒﺄﻤﺜﹶل ِ 46- O longest night! I so await your morn, Yet from my cares I’ll not by morn be shorn.

47- ﻓﻴﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻙ ﻤﻥ ﻟﹶ ﻴ لٍ ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻨﹸ ﺠ ﻭ ﻤ ﻪ ﺒﺄﻤﺭﺍﺱ ﻜ ﺘﹼ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺼ ﻡ ﺠﻨﹾﺩل ِ 47- O night! Your stars have darkness long endured. As if to hardest rocks they’ve been secured.

48- ﻭ ﻗِ ﺭ ﺒ ﺔِ ﺃ ﻗ ﻭ ﺍ ﻡٍ ﺠ ﻌ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋِﺼﺎﻤﻬﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻜ ﺎ ﻫِ لٍ ﻤﻨﻲ ﺫ ﻟ ﻭ لٍ ﻤﺭﺤل ِ 48- Gen’rous am I, who bears of time its worst. My camels’ water-skins for those who thirst.

49- ﻭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩٍ ﻜ ﺠ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻗﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺭٍ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫ ﺌ ﺏ ﻴﻌﻭﻱ ﻜﺎﻟﺨﹶﻠﻴﻊِ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻴل ِ 49- I’ve crossed arid valleys where starved wolves prowl Like gamblers’ famished young, with hunger howl.

50- ﻓ ﻘ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻪ ﻟﻤﺎ ﻋﻭﻯ: ﺇﻥ ﺸﺄﻨﻨﺎ ﻗﻠﻴلُ ﺍﻟﻐِﻨﻰ ﺇﻥ ﻜ ﻨ ﺕﹶ ﻟﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻤﻭل ِ 50- To howling wolf I said: “we’re of one kind We seek but what is sought we never find”.

51- ﻜﻼﻨﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺎ لَ ﺸﹶﻴﺌﺎﹰ ﺃ ﻓ ﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻭﻤﻥ ﻴﺤﺘﺭﺙ ﺤﺭﺜﻲ ﻭ ﺤ ﺭ ﺜ ﻙ ﺘﻬﺯل ِ 51- Each looks for what he in hunger devours Wretches are lean whose living is like ours11

52- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃﻏﹾﺘﹶﺩﻱ ﻭﺍﻟﻁﹼﻴﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻭﻜﹸﻨﹶﺎﺘِﻬﺎ ﺒ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺠ ﺭِ ﺩٍ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻵ ﻭ ﺍ ﺒ ﺩِ ﻫﻴﻜﹶل ِ 52- I rise before the birds in nests awake To mount a steed who all can overtake.

53- ﻤِ ﻜﹶ ﺭٍ ﻤِ ﻔ ﺭٍ ﻤﻘﺒلٍ ﻤ ﺩ ﺒِ ﺭٍ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻜﺠﻠﻤﻭﺩ ﺼ ﺨ ﺭٍ ﺤ ﻁﱠ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺴﻴل ﻤﻥ ﻋل ِ

11 I have based the translation of this line on that of R.A. Nicholson “Literary History of the ” (New Delhi e. 1994) p. 107.

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53- To charge, and wheel, the steed at once will try. So like a boulder cast by floods from high.

54- ﻜﹸ ﻤ ﻴ ﺕٍ ﻴ ﺯ لﱡ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﺒﺩ ﻋﻥ ﺤ ﺎ لِ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺯ ﻟﱠ ﺕﹾ ﺍﻟﺼﻔﹾﻭﺍﺀ ﺒﺎﻟﻤﺘﹶﻨﹶﺯل ِ 54- Who’s on its slipp’ry back, it over throws A polished stone on which rain overflows.

55- ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱠ ﺒ لِ ﺤ ﻴ ﺎ ﺵٍ ﻜﺄﻥ ﺍ ﻫ ﺘ ﺯ ﺍ ﻤ ﻪ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺠﺎﺵ ﻓﻴﻪ ﺤﻤﻴﻪ ﻏﹶ ﻠ ﻲ ﻤِﺭﺠل ِ 55- Though lean, its working pow’r e’er is at toil. It’s neighs so like a cauldron brought to boil.

56- ﻤِ ﺴ ﺢ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺒﺤﺎﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻭﻨﻰ ﺃ ﺜﹶ ﺭ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻐﹸﺒﺎﺭ ﺒﺎﻟﻜﺩﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﻤﺭﻜـﱠـل ِ 56- Onward it speeds, when swiftest steeds do tire They, heavy-hoofed, bedusted they retire

57- ﻴ ﺯِ لﱡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹸ ﻼ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨِ ﻑﱠ ﻋﻥ ﺼ ﻬ ﻭ ﺍ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻭﻴﻠﻭﻱ ﺒ ﺄ ﺜ ﻭ ﺍ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻌﻨﻴﻑِ ﺍﻟﻤﺜﹶﻘﱠل ِ 57- Unweighty boys for long can’t on it stay. At speed, its’ rider’s clothes are blown away.

58- ﺩ ﺭ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻜﹶ ﺨﹸ ﺫﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺃ ﻗ ﺭ ﻩ ﺘ ﺘ ﺎ ﺒ ﻊ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹼ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺒِ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻁٍ ﻤﻭﺼل ِ 58- Like “stone-and-string” that boys o’er head entwirl12, My steed, it’s stone-hard frame fast forward hurls.

59- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺃﻴﻁﻼ ﻅﹶ ﺒ ﻲٍ ﻭﺴﺎﻗﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﺇ ﺭ ﺨ ﺎ ﺀ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻭ ﺘ ﻘ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ ﺘﹶﺘﹾﻔﹸل ِ 59- With waist of deer; ostrich pace; wolfish core, And fox-cub’s hind legs o’er leaping the fore.

60- ﻀﻠﻴ ﻊٍ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺍﺴﺘﹶﺩﺒﺭﺘﹶﻪ ﺴ ﺩ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺠ ﻪ ﺒِ ﻀ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻓﹸﻭﻴﻕ ﺍﻻﺭﺽ ﻟﻴﺱ ﺒﺄﻋﺯل ِ 60- It’s ribs and flanks well-curved; its rear will shew How ground-length tail its’ hind legs shields from view.

61- ﻜﺄﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﹾﻨﹶﻴﻥِ ﻤﻨﻪ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺍﻨﹾﺘﺤﻰ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻙ ﻋ ﺭ ﻭ ﺱٍ ﺍﻭ ﺼ ﻼ ﺒ ﺔﹶ ﺤﻨﹾﻅﹶل ِ

12 Stone-and-string (Khudhroof) is a flat circular stone pierced in the middle and a length of string tied to it through the hole. Young boys twirl it above their head for sport.

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61- It’s withers are like grind-stones, hard and sound Where bride’s incense and bitter-seed are ground.13

62- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺩِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐ ﺎ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺕِ ﺒِ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻋ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﺤِ ﻨﹼ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺒ ﺸﹶ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻤﺭﺠل ِ 62- It’s neck is smeared with blood of hunted prey. So like “Henna” that over grey hairs lay14.

63- ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﻥ ﻟﻨﺎ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺏ ﻜﺄﻥ ﻨِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺠ ﻪ ﻋﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﺩ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭٍ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻼ ﺀٍ ﻤﺫﹶﻴل ِ 63- A herd whose ewes far ahead appeared15. So like virgins unsunned; by sin unsmeared.

64- ﻓ ﺄ ﺩ ﺒ ﺭ ﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠِ ﺯ ﻉِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻔﹶ ﺼ لِ ﺒ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺒِ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺩِ ﻤ ﻌ ﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺸ ﻴ ﺭ ﺓِ ﻤﻨﹾﺨﻭل ِ 64- They’re like Yemeni beads, well-born boys wear. Their necks and cheeks are black; their bodies fair.

65- ﻓﺄﻟﺤﻘﹶﻨﺎ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻬ ﺎ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺠﻭﺍﺤِﺭﻫﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺼ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻟﻡ ﺘﹸﺯﻴل ِ 65- The herd’s vanguard my steed did soon o’er take. The slow were left their slow way on to make16.

66- ﻓﹶﻌﺎﺩﻯ ﻋﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﺔٍ ﺩِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻜ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻀ ﺢ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻓﻴﻐﺴل ِ 66- A ram and an ewe were felled in chase. Sweatless the steed was through the hectic race.

67- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻁﹸ ﻬ ﺎ ﺓﹸ ﺍﻟﻠﺤﻡِ ﻤﻥ ﺒﻴﻥ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻀِ ﺞٍ ﺼ ﻔ ﻴ ﻑﹶ ﺸِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀٍ ﺃﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻤﻌﺠل ِ 67- The copious hunt the cooks set to prepare, Some boiled, some on hot stones, roasted the fare.

68- ﻭﺭﺤﻨﺎ ﻴ ﻜ ﺎ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﺭﻑﹸ ﻴ ﻘ ﺼ ﺭ ﺩ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻤﺘﻰ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻕﱠ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺘﹶﺴﻔﱠل ِ 68- In perfect form was this my splendid steed. Upon its perfection, eyes greed’ly feed.

13 Bitter-seed: seed of the bitter-apple (handhal), see above. 14 Henna: a dark-red hair dye. 15 Herd: refers to a herd of oryx. The female oryx lead the herd. 16 The swift steed soon overtakes the swiftest of the herd, leaving the slower ones behind.

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69- ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺴ ﺭ ﺠ ﻪ ﻭ ﻟِ ﺠ ﺎ ﻤ ﻪ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﺒِﻌﻴﻨﻲ ﻗ ﺎ ﺌ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻏﻴﺭ ﻤﺭﺴل ِ 69- It, saddled and bridled, I e’er keep, And ne’er to pasture let it happ’ly leap.

70- ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺡ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺒ ﺭ ﻗ ﺎﹰ ﺃُ ﺭ ﻴ ﻙ ﻭ ﻤ ﻴ ﻀ ﻪ ﻜﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻤ ﻊِ ﺍﻟﻴﺩﻴﻥِ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﺒ ﻲ ﻤﻜﻠﹼل ِ 70- Look up, my friend, I’ll show you lightning’s streaks, So like the wildly waving arms of freaks.

71- ﻴﻀﻲﺀ ﺴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻩ ﺃﻭ ﻤﺼﺎﺒﻴﺢ ﺭ ﺍ ﻫِ ﺏٍ ﺃﻤﺎل ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻠ ﻴ ﻁﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﺫﱡﺒﺎلِ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﹶﺘﱠل ِ 71- It’s flash lights all, like monk’s lantern; well built, As oil rushes to soak its wick at tilt.

72- ﻗﹶﻌﺩﺕ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻭﺼﺤﺒﺘﻲ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻀ ﺎ ﺭ ﺝٍ ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺫﹶ ﻴ ﺏِ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻤﺎ ﻤﺘﺄﻤﻠﻲ 72- ‘Tween “Dharj” and “Uthayb” t’watch the clouds sat we Amazed was I how far my eyes could see.

73- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻥٍ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻴ ﻡِ ﺃ ﻴ ﻤ ﻥ ﺼ ﻭ ﺒ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ ﻩ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺴﺘﺎﺭِ ﻓﹶﻴﺫﹾﺒل ِ 73- Cloud-topp’d mount “Qatan” was there on our right, To left, cloud-topp’d “Sitar” and “Yethbel”, in sight.

74- ﻓﺄﻀﺤﻰ ﻴ ﺴ ﺢ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﺤ ﻭ لَ ﻜﹸﺘﹶﻴﻔﹶﺔٍ ﻴ ﻜﹸ ﺏ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻻ ﺫ ﻗ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺩ ﻭ ﺡ ﺍﻟﻜﹶﻨﹶﻬﺒل ِ 74- Torrential rain over “Kutaifa” poured, Uprooting trees that once up high had soared.

75- ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻨﺎﻥِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﻔﹾ ﻴ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻓ ﺄ ﻨ ﺯ لَ ﻤﻨﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺼ ﻡ ﻤﻥ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﻤﻨﹾﺯِل ِ 75- “Qinan’s” high mount was struck by that deluge, It’s frightened elk hurried for safe refuge.

76- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺘ ﺭ ﻙ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺠِ ﺫﹾ ﻉ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﻭﻻ ﺃ ﻁﹸ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺇﻻ ﻤ ﺸ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﺒِﺠﻨﹾﺩل ِ 76- “Taymaa`”s date palms were swiftly over thrown The floods swept all but mansions built of stone.

77- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺜﹶﺒﻴﺭﺍﹰ ﻓﻲ ﻋﺭﺍﻨﻴﻥ ﻭ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶﺒﻴﺭ ﺃ ﻨ ﺎ ﺱٍ ﻓﻲ ﺒِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺩٍ ﻤﺯﻤل ِ 77- “Thebeer’s” high mount was braced for that onslaught,

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As the cloaked lord, storm shelter once had sought.

78- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺫﹸﺭﻯ ﺭ ﺃ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﻴ ﻤِ ﺭِ ﻏﹸ ﺩ ﻭ ﺓﹰ ﻤِﻥ ﺍﻟﺴﻴلِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻷ ﻋ ﺜ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺔﹸ ﻤِﻐﹾﺯل ِ 78- The loaded floods around “Mujaymir” swirled, And spun as swiftly as a spindle twirled.17

79- ﻭﺃﻟﻘﻰ ﺒِ ﺼ ﺤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀِ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺒﻴﻁِ ﺒ ﻌ ﺎ ﻋ ﻪ ﻨﹸ ﺯ ﻭ لَ ﺍﻟﻴﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺎ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻤﺤﻤل ِ 79- “Ghabeet” desert was then with colour laid, Like Yem’ni wares merchants in full displayed.

80- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻤ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻜ ﻲ ﺍﻟﺠِﻭﺍﺀ ﻏﹸ ﺩ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﺼ ﺒِ ﺤ ﻥ ﺴ ﻼ ﻓ ﺎﹰ ﻤِﻥ ﺭ ﺤ ﻴ ﻕٍ ﻤﻔﹶﻠﹾﻔﹶل ِ 80- “Mikaak” birds’ song throughout the valley rang. ‘s if peppered wine had drunk, they happ’ly sang.

81- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺍﻟﺴﺒﺎﻉ ﻓﻴﻪ ﻏﹶﺭﻗﻰ ﻋ ﺸ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﺒﺄﺭﺠ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻪِ ﺍﻟﻘﺼﻭﻯ ﺃﻨﺎﺒﻴﺵﹸ ﻋﻨﹾﺼل ِ 81- The beasts that were in floods beswept and drowned, Like flooded crops, in mud were deeply bound.

[2] ﺨﻠﻴﻠﻲ ﻤﺭﺍ ﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﻡ ﺠ ﻨ ﺩ ﺏِ “At Umm Jundub, on me, my friends, do call”

Imru’ul Qays had married a woman of the tribe called ‘Umm Jundub. One ‘Alqama b. ‘Abda al–Temimi came while Imru’ul Qays was sitting in a tent with Umm Jundub behind him. The two men exchanged verses, each claiming to be more of a poet than the other. They each recited a poem, with Umm Jundub as a referee. Imru’ul Qays recited:

1- ﺨﹶﻠﻴﻠﻲ ﻤﺭﺍ ﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﻡ ﺠ ﻨ ﺩ ﺏِ ﻨﹸ ﻘﹶ ﺽ ﻟﹸﺒﺎﻨﺎﺕﹶ ﺍﻟﻔﺅﺍﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻌ ﺫﱠ ﺏِ 1- At Umm Jundub, on me, my friends do call, To meet such wants that do my heart befall.

2- ﻓﺄﻨﻜﹸﻤﺎ ﺇ ﻥ ﺘﻨﻅﺭﺍﻨﻲ ﺴ ﺎ ﻋ ﺔﹰً ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹶ ﻌ ﻨ ﻲ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺃﻡ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺏِ

17 The flood-waters were heavily loaded with debris.

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2- Should you, with me, awhile in verse debate That would with Umm Jundub my worth elate.

3- ﺃﻟﻡ ﺘﹶﺭﻴﺎﻨﻲ ﻜﹸﻠﹼﻤﺎ ﺠِ ﺌ ﺕﹸ ﻁ ﺎ ﺭ ﻗ ﺎﹰ ﻭﺠﺩﺕ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻁﻴﺒﺎﹰ ﻭﺇﻥ ﻟﻡ ﺘ ﻁﹶ ﻴ ﺏِ 3- When e’er, to her, I come, I am besot. Perfumed she is, though perfume she wears not.

4- ﻋ ﻘ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹸ ﺃ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﺍ ﺏٍ ﻟﻬﺎ ، ﻻ ﺫﻤﻴﻤﺔ ﻭﻻ ﺫﺍﺕ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻕٍ ﺇﻥ ﺘ ﺄ ﻤ ﻠ ﺕﹶ ﺠﺄﻨﺏ ِ 4- Paragon ‘mongst her peers: for she’s not plain, No plainnesses, observe, her fine form stain.

5- ﺃﻻ ﻟ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﺸِﻌﺭﻱ ﻜﹶﻴﻑ ﺤﺎﺩﺙ ﻭﺼﻠِﻬﺎ ﻭﻜﹶﻴﻑ ﺘﹸﺭﺍﻋﻲ ﻭ ﺼ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹶَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺘﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻴ ﺏِ 5- In truth, how are her ‘ffections to be won? Would she retain them for the absent one?

6- ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤﺎ ﺒﻴﻨﻨﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻤ ﻭ ﺩ ﺓٍ ﺃ ﻤ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹸ ﺃ ﻡ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻟِ ﻘﹶ ﻭ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺏِ 6- Keep she th’ affections that us both have shrived, Or has she on the rogues’ falsehoods thrived?

7- ﻓﺈﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺄَ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﺤِ ﻘﹾ ﺒ ﺔﹰ ﻻ ﺘﹸﻼﻗِﻬﺎ ﻓﺄﻨﻙ ﻤِﻤﺎ ﺃﺤﺩﺜﹶﺕ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﺭ ﺏِ 7- Absent yourself awhile from her, you’ll find Her not; for well you know her mind and kind.

8- ﻭﻗﺎﻟﺕ ﻤﺘﻰ ﻴ ﺒ ﺨﹶ لْ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙ ﻭ ﻴ ﻌ ﺘﹶ ﻠ لْ ﻴ ﺴ ﺅ ﻙ ﻭ ﺇ ﻥ ﻴ ﻜﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻑﹾ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﻤ ﻙ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﺭ ﺏِ 8- Her favours short:- your surging passions wane Her favours full:- your passions surge again

9- ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﺨﹶﻠﻴﻠﻲ ﻫل ﺘﺭﻯ ﻤِﻥ ﻅ ﻌ ﺎ ﺌ ﻥٍ ﺴ ﺅ ﺍ ﻟِ ﻙ ﻨﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺤﺯﻤﻲ ﺸﹶ ﻌ ﺒ ﻌ ﺏِ 9- Look there, my friend, and see the howdahs sway Through trails that by “Shacab cab” water lay.

10- ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﻥ ﺒﺄﻨﻁﺎﻜﻴﺔٍ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﻋِ ﻘﹾ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶ ﺠِ ﺭ ﻤ ﺔِ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ لٍ ﺃﻭ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﻨﹼ ﺔِ ﻴ ﺜﹾ ﺭِ ﺏِ 10- In howdahs, belles in colours rich and soft, Like yellow-red fruit palms hold up aloft.

11- ﻭﻟﻠﹼﻪِ ﻋﻴﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻥ ﺭﺃﻯ ﻤﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺃ ﺸﹶ ﺙﹸ ﻭﺃﻨﺄﻯ ﻤﻥ ﻓِﺭﺍﻕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺤ ﺼّ ﺏِ

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11- The eye be bless’t that sees them all dispersed As those who stoned “Muhasab” idol, and cursed.18

12- ﻓﺭﻴﻘﺎﻥ ﻤﻨﻬﻡ ﺠ ﺎ ﺯ ﻉ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﻭﺁﺨﺭ ﻤﻨﻬﻡ ﻗﺎﻁِﻊ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﺩ ﻜﹶ ﺒ ﻜﹶ ﺏِ 12- Some howdahs to some verdant palm groves head Some cross o’er mount “Kebkab”; so bleak, so dead,19

13- ﻓﹶﻌﻴﻨﺎﻙ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺠ ﺩ ﻭ لٍ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﻀ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﺞِ ﻓﻲ ﺼ ﻔ ﻴ ﺢٍ ﻤ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏِ 13- A stream of tears at their departure flows Like stone-banked channel water, swiftly goes20.

14- ﻭ ﺇ ﻨﹼ ﻙ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻔﹾ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙ ﻜﹶ ﻔ ﺎ ﺨِ ﺭٍ ﻀ ﻌ ﻴ ﻑٍ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﻐﹾ ﻠِ ﺒ ﻙ ﻤﺜلُ ﻤ ﻐﹶ ﻠﱠ ﺏِ 14- Vicious is th’ triumph of the proud, but weak. Vicious the triumph over you they seek.

15- ﻭ ﺇ ﻨﹼ ﻙ ﻟ ﻡ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹾ ﻁﹶ ﻊ ﻟﹸ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹶ ﻋ ﺎ ﺸِ ﻕٍ ﺒِ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﻏﹸ ﺩ ﻭ ﺃﻭ ﺭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺡٍ ﻤﺅﻭﺏِ 15- The experienced, of what is true, would tell, who can, from knowledge of truth’s ways, foretell.

16- ﺒﺄﺩﻤﺎﺀ ﺤ ﺭ ﺠ ﻭ ﺝٍ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﻗﹸﺘﹸﻭﺩﻫﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺒﻠـَﻕ ِﺍﻟﻜﹶﺸﹾﺤﻴﻥ ﻟﻴﺱ ﺒ ﻤ ﻐ ﺭِ ﺏِ 16- White she-camels, small waisted, tall and lean, So like wild-ass, at vig’rous canter keen.

17- ﻴ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﺩ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﺴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻓﻲ ﻜﹸ لّ ﺴ ﺩ ﻓ ﺔٍ ﺘﹶ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﺩ ﻤ ﻴ ﺎ ﺡِ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺩﺍﻤﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﺏِ 17- Wild-ass, at darkness, braying loud and long Like drunken singer, drunk with drunken song.

18- ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺏ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻉٍ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺤ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻋ ﻤ ﺎ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﻤ ﺞ ﻟﹸ ﻌ ﺎ ﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻘﹾ لِ ﻓﻲ ﻜ لّ ﻤ ﺸ ﺭ ﺏِ 18- Full-fed, the wild-ass bull at water’s brink. It’s mouth with grazing drips while at its drink.

18 Al- “Muhasab” (The stoned one) is the idol of Satan at the Pilgrimage site at “Mina”. Stoning the Devil is still one of the Pilgrimage rites at . He is saying that the howdah caravan disperses in all directions, as the ritual stone-throwers do after that ceremony is over. 19 Mount Kebkab, is bleak and bare, lies behind Mount Arafat; the pilgrimage mountain near Mecca. 20 Channelled water was kept still during the night, and released into palm groves at daybreak.

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19- ﺒِ ﻤ ﺤ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺁ ﺯ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺎ لُ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﻤ ﺠ ﺭ ﺠ ﻴ ﻭ ﺵٍ ﻏ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻤ ﻴ ﻥ ﻭ ﺨﹸ ﻴ ﺏِ 19- The ass feeds well at valley’s verdant bend. Where armies clash, on pasture `t can depend21

20- ﻭﻗﹶﺩ ﺍﻏﺘﺩﻱ ﻭﺍﻟﻁﹶﻴﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻭﻜﹸﻨﹶﺎﺘِﻬﺎ ﻭﻤﺎﺀ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺩﻯ ﻴﺠﺭﻱ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻜل ﻤِ ﺫﹾ ﻨﹶ ﺏِ 20- I might arise when birds are still at nest And grove-water no longer is at rest

21- ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺠ ﺭِ ﺩٍ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻷ ﻭ ﺍ ﺒِ ﺩِ ﻻ ﺤ ﻪ ﻁِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩِ ﻱ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﺸﹶ ﺄ ﻭٍ ﻤ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﺏِ 21- The steed’s gallop keeps cant’ring beasts at bay. with gallop, lean and hard it will e’er stay.

22- ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻷ ﻴ ﻥِ ﺠ ﻴ ﺎ ﺵٍ ﻜﺄﻥ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺘ ـَ ﻪ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻭﺍﻟﺘِﻌﺩﺍﺀِ ﺴﺭﺤﺔ ٌ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗ ﺏِ 22- Ov’rcomes fatigue, its back so sleek and lean Hard– fixed as desert tree in distance seen.

23- ﻴﺒﺎﺭﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻨ ﻭ ﻑﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻘِ لﱠ ﺯِ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤ ﻪ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺸﺨﺼﻪ ﻜﺄﻨﻪ ﻋ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤِ ﺸﹾ ﺠ ﺏِ 23- It’s fore–legs, like wild–ass,vigour defy. It’s mettle clean as clothes hung out to dry

24- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺍ ﻴ ﻁﹶ ﻼﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺒ ﻲٍ ﻭﺴﺎﻗﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﺼ ﻬ ﻭ ﺓﹸ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻗ ﺎ ﺌ ﻡٍ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺏِ 24- As ostrich, legged; as oryx, waisted lean; Wild– ass saddle; straight, high, and keen.

25- ﻭﻴﺨﹾﻁﹸﻭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺼ ﻡ ﺼِ ﻼ ﺏٍ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﺤِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﻏﹶ ﻴ لٍ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﺜ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﺒِ ﻁﹸ ﺤ ﻠِ ﺏِ 25- It walks on hoofs, stone–hard, yellowish-grey Like stones that did, long–whiles, in still ponds stay

26- ﻟﻪ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ لٌ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺩِ ﻋ ﺹِ ﻟﹶ ﺒ ﺩ ﻩ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺩﻯ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻙٍ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺒﻴﻁِ ﺍﺍﻟﻤﺫﹶﺃﺏِ 26- It’s frame well–wrought, is welded firmly fast As dunes by wet– heat; high as howdah’s mast.

21 Armies, victorious or defeated, clash at the bend of the valley, thus herdsmen avoid grazing their animals there; leaving lush pasture for the wild-ass.

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27- ﻭ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥ ﻜ ﻤِ ﺭ ﺁ ﺓِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻉِ ﺘﹸﺩﻴﺭﻫﺎ ﻟِ ﻤ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭِﻫﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﹼ ﺼ ﻴ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻘﱠ ﺏِ 27- Clear eyes! Like woman mirroring her face, To see if veil exactly fits in place.

28- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺃُ ﺫﹸ ﻨ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺘﹶﻌﺭِﻑ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﺘﹾ ﻕﹸ ﻓﻴﻬِﻤﺎ ﻜﺴﺎﻤﻌﺘﻲ ﻤ ﺫ ﻋ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺏِ 28- It’s sharp ear-points show grand pedigree clear As startled deer when ‘pending danger hear.

29- ﻭ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻔ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺍﻟﺯِﻓﹾﺭﻯ ﻜﺄﻥ ﻋِ ﻨ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻭﻤﺜﻨﺎﺘﹶﻪ ﻓﻲ ﺭ ﺃ ﺱِ ﺠِِ ﺫﹾ ﻉٍ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﺫﱠ ﺏِ 29- Round head; high neck with fine harness betopped is like palm tree with lower branches lopped.

30- ﻭ ﺃ ﺴ ﺤ ﻡ ﺭ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻨﹼ ﻪ ﻋﺜﺎﻜﻴلُ ﻗِ ﻨﹾ ﻭٍ ﻤﻥ ﺴ ﻤ ﻴ ﺤ ﺔِ ﻤ ﺭ ﻁِ ﺏِ 30- Of th’tail’s rich weight one could forever tell. As heavy dates hang by “Sumayha’s” well.22

31- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺠﺭﻯ ﺸﺄﻭﻴﻥ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﺘﹶ لﱠ ﻋِ ﻁﹾ ﻔﹸ ﻪ ﺘﻘﻭل ﻫ ﺯ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺭﻴﺢ ﻤ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺒﺄﺜﺄﺏِ 31- At gallop, when strong wind accosts its flank Gives sound like wind ablow through “Ath’ab’s” bank23

32- ﻭ ﻴ ﺨﹾ ﻀِ ﺩ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻵﺭِﻱ، ﺤﺘﻰ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻪ ﺒ ﻪِ ﻋ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻤﻥ ﻁﺎﺌﻑٍ، ﻏﻴﺭ ﻤ ﻌ ﻘِ ﺏِ 32- It tears at foliage with brutal intent as if by mad spirits, to feed, was sent.

33- ﻴ ﺩ ﻴ ﺭ ﻗﹶﻁﹶﺎﺓﹰ ﻜﹶﺎﻟﻤﺤﺎﻟﺔِ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺴ ﻨﹶ ﺩٍ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﺍﻟﻐﺒﻴﻁِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺫ ﺃّ ﺏِ 33- A second-rider on its back-end twirls, As howdah’s climbing mast-pole sways and swirls.24

34- ﻓ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺏٍ ﻨﹶ ﻘِ ﻲ ﺠ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﻩ ﻭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﻨﹶ ﺔٍ ﺃُﻡ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺏِ

22 Sumayha’s well: a well at a location at (then called Yethrib) known for its profuse water. Medina dates, even today are known for their large size and high quality. 23 ‘Ath’ab: a species of tree amplifying the sound of wind blowing through it. Such trees rising on a bank amplify the sound of wind even more effectively. 24 Howdah’s mast-pole: howdahs. womens tent-like housing placed on camels, is supported – like tents– by a central pole, which sways and swirls with the animal’s movements.

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34- A day, is aft’r pure-white oryx in chase, An’ther, it runs with wild-ass foal in race

35- ﻓﹶﺒﻴﻨﺎ ﻨِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺝ ﻴ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﻥ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻜ ﻤ ﺸ ﻲِ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻼ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻬ ﺩ ﺏِ 35- Oryx ewes ‘neath bowers graze away, Like virgins dressed in white, in softness sway.

36- ﻓﹶﻁﹶﺎلَ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻭ ﻋ ﻘﹾ ﺩ ﻋِ ﺫ ﺍ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻭ ﻗ ﺎ لَ ﺼِﺤﺎﺒﻲ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺸ ﺄ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻙ ﻓ ﺎﹾ ﻁﹾ ﻠﹸ ﺏِ 36- We called to one an’ther the hunt to start. “They’re fled!” my friends called back “After them!Depart!”

37- ﻓﹶﻸﻴﺎ ﺒِ ﻸ ﻱٍ ﻤﺎ ﺤ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻨ ﺎ ﻏﹸﻼﻤﻨﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﻬﺭ ﻤ ﺤ ﺒ ﻭ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﺴﺭﺍﺓِ ﻤ ﺤ ﻨﹼ ﺏِ 37- With much ado our lad did mount the steed Whose hard, curved back did driv’n pow’r wield.

38- ﻭﻭﻟﹼﻰ ﻜﺸﺅﺒﻭﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺸِ ﻲ ﺒِﻭﺍﺒلٍ ﻭ ﻴ ﺤ ﺭ ﺠ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻌ ﺩٍ ﺜﺭﺍﻩ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺼ ﺏِ 38- It drives ahead like lashing evening rain to o’er take the ewes across the dusty plain.

39- ﻓﹶﻠﻠﺴﺎﻕِ ﺃُ ﻟ ﻬ ﻭ ﺏ ﻭﻟﻠﺴﻭﻁِ ﺩِ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻭﻟﻠﺯﺠﺭِ ﻤِ ﻨ ﻪ ﻭ ﻗﹾ ﻊ ﺃ ﺨﹾ ﺭ ﺝ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻌ ﺏِ 39- When spurred; inflamed. When lashed, gallops away. Rebuked; goes mad with charges of delay.

40- ﻓ ﺄ ﺩ ﺭ ﻙ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺠ ﻬ ﺩ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺜﹾ ﻥِ ﺸﹶ ﺄ ﻭ ﻩ ﻴ ﻤ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺨﹸ ﺫﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺜﹶ ﻘﱠ ﺏِ 40- With ease the steed draws round the herd a ring Like “stone– and– string” children in circles swing.25

41- ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔﹶ ﺄ ﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾﻘﹶﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻉِ ﻻ ﺤِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺠ ﺩ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀِ ﻤﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺩ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻬِ ﺏِ 41- It’s pounding hoofs drives out from sub–terrain rats that mistake them for hard–pounding rain.

42- ﺨﹶ ﻔ ﺎ ﻫ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻨ ﻔ ﺎ ﻗِ ﻬِ ﻥ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﹶﻤـﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻔ ﺎ ﻫ ﻥ ﻭ ﺩ ﻕﹲ ﻤﻥ ﻋ ﺸِ ﻲ ﻤ ﺠ ﻠﱢ ﺏِ

25 “Stone– and– string”: (Khudroof a children’s toy. A flat circular pebble, or smaller stone is tied to twine through a hole in its middle, and swung round.(vide supra n.12).

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42- Driv’n out, the scurrying rats, in abject fear that their holes be flooded by th’rain they hear.

43- ﻓﹶﻌﺎﺩﻯ ﻋِ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﻘ ﻀ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔِ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻫ ﺏِ 43- The bulls and cows the steed does so enfold, Of bulls both big and small, both young and old.26

44- ﻭ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻟﺜﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥِ ﺍﻟﺼﺭﻴﻡ ﻏ ﻤ ﺎ ﻏِ ﻡ ﻴﺩﺍﻋِﺴﻬﺎ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﻬ ﺭِ ﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻌ ﻠﱠ ﺏِ 44- O’er dunes some bulls entwist in deathly dance, enpained when struck by th’hard, well–pointed lance

45- ﻓﹶ ﻜ ﺎ ﺏٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺤ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺠﺒﻴﻥ ﻭ ﻤ ﺘ ﻕٍ ﺒ ﻤِ ﺩ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﻬﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻟﹾ ﻕﹸ ﻤِ ﺸﹾ ﻌ ﺏِ 45- Struck down; stumbling, upon their brows some fall, While some ward off with horn as sharp as awl.

46- ﻭﻗﹸﻠﹾﻨﹶـﺎ ﻟِ ﻔِ ﺘ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻜِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡٍ ﺃﻻ ﺍﻨﹾﺯِﻟﻭﺍ ﻓﹶﻌﺎﻟﹸﻭﺍ ﻋﻠﻴﻨﹶﺎ ﻓ ﻀ لَ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﻁ ﻨﱠ ﺏِ 46- We asked fine youths when kills were fin’lly made, a tent to make from ropes and clothes; for shade.

47- ﻭ ﺃ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﻩ ﻤ ﺎ ﺫِ ﻴ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﻋِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺩ ﻩ ﺭﺩﻴﻨﻴﺔٍ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﺃ ﺴِ ﻨﹼ ﺔﹸ ﻗﹶ ﻌ ﻀ ﺏِ 47- Make-shift it was, from cloaks and harness made. It’s poles “Rudayna” spears with “Qaadhab’s” blade.27

48- ﻭﺃَﻁﹾﻨﹶﺎﺒﻪ ﺃﺸﹶﻁﺎﻥ ﺨ ﻭ ﺽٍ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺏٍ ﻭ ﺼ ﻬ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤﻥ ﺃ ﺜ ﺤ ﻤ ﻲ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﻋ ﺏِ 48- It ropes were camel harness, to uphold its roof of fine garments that Yemen sold.

49- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺩ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻨ ﺎ ﻩ ﺃﻀﻔﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﻅﹸﻬﻭﺭﻨﺎ ﺇﻟﻰ ﻜﹸ لّ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻱ ﺠ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﻁﱠ ﺏٍ 49- Into our tent we crept and lay, leaning `pon our well–made, well–striped “Hirite” saddling.28

26 Bulls and cows refer to males and females in the herd of oryx. 27 “Rudayna” high-quality spears made by one ‘Qaadhab’ of the Beni Qashir, husband of one Rudayna. His spears were named after her. 28 Hira- The town in southern ‘Al- famed then for its quality saddling.

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50- ﻜﹶﺄﻥ ﻋ ﻴ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵِ ﺤ ﻭ لَ ﺨِﺒﺎﺌِﻨﹶﺎ ﻭﺃﺭﺤﻠِﻨﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺯ ﻉ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺜﹾ ﻘﹶ ﺏِ 50- As if th’oryx eyes round our tent and gear were beads; jet–black, milk–white, unholed, full clear.

51- ﻨﹶ ﻤ ﺵﱡ ﺒﺄﻋﺭﺍﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺩِ ﺃﻜﹸﻔﹼﻨﹶـﺎ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻥ ﻗﹸ ﻤ ﻥ ﻋﻥ ﺸِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀٍ ﻤ ﻀ ﻬ ﺏِ 51- On horses manes we wiped our hands, well–greased, rising from our half– roasted oryx feast.

52- ﻭﺭﺤﻨﺎ ﻜﺄﻨﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺠﺅﺍﺜﻰ ﻋ ﺸِ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﻨﹸﻌﺎﻟﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺝ ﺒﻴﻥ ﻋِ ﺩ لٍ ﻭ ﻤ ﺤ ﻘﹶ ﺏِ 52- We left, ‘s if from “Ju’atha” way we dragged th’ oryx we had o’er saddles and embagged.29

53- ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺡ ﻜﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ لِ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹸ ﺽ ﺭ ﺃ ﺴ ﻪ ﺃ ﺫ ﺍ ﺓﹰ ﺒ ﻪِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺼ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻙٍ ﻤ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻠﱢ ﺏِ 53- My burdened mount, that on the “Rabl” had grazed Sweats free and is by its own sweat dismayed30

54- ﺤﺒﻴﺏ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍ ﻷ ﺼ ﺤ ﺎ ﺏِ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤﻠﹶﻌﻥ ٍ ﻴ ﻔﹶ ﺩ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﺏِ 54- Ne’er cursed, this steed to friends is very dear. More than parental love for it they bear.

55- ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒ ﻘﹾ ﻊٍ ﺩِﻗﹶﺎﻕﹶ ﺼ ﺩ ﻭ ﺭ ﻩ ﻭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺴ ﻔﹾ ﻊِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻤ ﻊِ ﺭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺏِ 55- A day to hunt fine-breast’d, hued birds is sent. Another, after black-eyed oryx went.

56- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺩﻤﺎﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺕِ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻋ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﻩ ﺤِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺒ ﺸ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﻀ ﺏِ 56- As if prey’s blood that lay thick ‘pon its neck was Hennas that graying, white hair bedeck31

57- ﻭ ﺃ ﻨ ﺕﹶ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍﺴﺘﺩﺒﺭﺘﹶﻪ ﺴ ﺩ ﻤ ﺯ ﺠ ﻪ ﺒ ﻀ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻓﹸ ﻭ ﻴ ﻕﹶ ﺍﻷﺭﺽ ﻟﻴﺱ ﺒ ﺄ ﺼ ﻬ ﺏِ

29 Ju’atha: a market town in Bahrain famed for its merchandize. They have left, laden with oryx as if they had returned from Ju’athas’ markets, laden with purchases. 30 Rabl: desert grass growing on moist air rather than rain at winter, giving the horse added vigour. 31 Henna: a dark reddish-brown hair dye still used today; it is also used to decorate hands and feet on ceremonial occasions, such as feasts, marriages etc.

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57- When viewed from rear, nothing of th’steed is seen Save its ground-length tail’s blackest glowing sheen.

[3] ﺃﺒﻌﺩ ﺍﻟﺤﺎﺭﺙ ﺍﻟﻤﻠﻙ ﺒﻥ ﻋﻤﺭﻭ Will there a king after al-Harith be

1- ﺃﺭﺍﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻭ ﻀِ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﻷ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻭ ﻨ ﺴ ﺤ ﺭ ﺒﺎﻟﻁﱠﻌﺎﻡِ ﻭﺒﺎﻟﺸﹶﺭﺍﺏِ 1- We seem to head towards th ‘Unknowns’ dark brink. While we beguile our nights with food and drink.

2- ﻋﺼﺎﻓﻴﺭ، ﻭﺫﹸﺒﺎﻥ، ﻭﺩﻭﺩ، ﻭ ﺃ ﺠ ﺭ ﺃُ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﺠ ﻠﱢ ﺤ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱢ ﺌ ﺎ ﺏِ 2- We’re weaker than sparrows; than worms and flies. As bold as wolves; to hunt are swift to rise.

3- ﻭ ﻜﹸ لﱡ ﻤ ﻜ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻡ ﺍ ﻷ ﺨ ﻼ ﻕِ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺇ ﻟ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻫِﻤﺘﻲ، ﻭﺒﻪ ﺇﻜﺘﺴﺎﺒﻲ 3- To all fine manners I intend t’aspire. Through manners fine, what I seek most, acquire.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﻌ ﺽ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻭﻡِ ﻋﺎﺫِﻟﹶﺘﻲ، ﻓﺈﻨﹼﻲ ﺴﺘﹶﻜﻔﻴﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺘﱠﺠﺎﺭِﺏ، ﻭﺍﻨﺘﺴﺎﺒﻲ 4- So blame me less, by ‘xperience I’ve been taught. Birth-pride I’ve shunned, for fatal ‘tis if sought.32

5- ﺇﻟﻰ ﻋِ ﺭ ﻕِ ﺍﻟﺜﺭﻯ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺠ ﺕﹾ ﻋﺭﻭﻗﻲ، ﻭﻫﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﻴﺴﻠﹸﺒﻨﻲ ﺸﺒﺎﺒﻲ 5- My roots entwined with roots in earthen deeps. And looming death my youthful prime bereaps.33

32 Here he is addressing a woman, asking her to blame him less for being a fun-loving libertine; for experience had taught him all he needs to know. Birth-Pride, Pride in ancestry, is useless to him. The conventional wisdom of the time held that, if one is inexperienced, one should emulate the ways of one’s illustrious ancestors. Imru’ul Qays refutes this, saying that his ancestors are dead, and so will he be, so there’s no point, indeed it is fatal for him, to take pride as a source of inspiration and experience. 33 “earthen deeps” refers to Adam; that his roots go down deep to Adam, and he need’nt take pride in his own direct ancestry. Pride in ancestry is essentially a privilege of youth which looming death will rob him of soon.

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6- ﻭﻨﹶﻔﹾﺴﻲ، ﺴ ﻭ ﻑﹶ ﻴﺴﻠﹸﺒﻬﺎ، ﻭ ﺠِ ﺭ ﻤ ﻲ ، ﻓﹶﻴﻠﺤِﻘﹸﻨﻲ، ﻭﺸﻴﻜﺎﹰ، ﺒﺎﻟﺘﱡﺭﺍﺏِ 6- Death will my frame, of breath of life, deprive. To send me down to dust, death will e’er strive.

7- ﺃَ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃُ ﻨﹾ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻁ ﻲ ﺒِ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺃ ﻤ ﻕﱢ ﺍﻟﻁﱡﻭلِ، ﻟﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﻉِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺏِ 7- Have I not wearied mounts with long, hard rides; ‘n urge, through shimm’ring mirage, their plodding strides.

8- ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻠﱡﻬﺎﻡِ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﺭِ، ﺤﺘـﻰ ﺃ ﻨ ﺎ لَ ﻤ ﺂ ﻜِ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺤ ﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭِ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺏِ 8- And rode with hosts that all before devour, And broke to spoils in glory’s greatest hour.

9- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻁ ﻭ ﻓ ﺕﹸ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻵﻓﺎﻕِ، ﺤﺘﻰ ﺭﻀﻴﺕﹸ، ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻨﻴﻤﺔِ، ﺒ ﺎ ﻹ ﻴ ﺎ ﺏِ 9- I’ve roamed the world; so hard, so far, so wide. Wearied, sans gain, at home yearned to abide

10- ﺃ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺤﺎﺭﺙِ، ﺍﻟﻤﻠِﻙِ، ﺒﻥ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺤﺠﺭٍ، ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏِ 10- No king like king “Harith bin ‘Amr” e’er comes, Nor good after “The Hujr of Many Domes”.34

11- ﺃُﺭﺠﻲ، ﻤِ ﻥ ﺼ ﺭ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﺩﻫﺭِ، ﻟﻴﻨﺎﹰ، ﻭﻟﻡ ﺘﹶﻐﹾﻔﹶل ﻋﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬِ ﻀ ﺎ ﺏِ 11- Shall I, of Turns of Time, soft times expect? To strike the mighty, Time ne’er did neglect.

12- ﻭﺍﻋﻠﹶــﻡ ﺃﻨﱠﻨـﻲ، ﻋﻤـﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ـ ﺏٍ ﺴ ﺄ ﻨ ﺸﹶ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺸﺒﺎ ﻅﹸ ﻔﹾ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﻨ ﺎ ﺏِ 12- I know, that I, before much time goes by, By sharpest fangs and claws, I’ll mangled lie.

13- ﻜﻤﺎ ﻻﻗﻰ ﺃﺒﻲ ﺤﺠﺭ، ﻭﺠﺩﻱ ﻭﻻ ﺃﻨﺴﻰ ﻗﹶﺘﻴﻼﹰ ﺒﺎﻟﻜِﻼﺏِ 13- As “Hujr” my sire, and grandsire, were slain, Those at “Kilab”, in mem’ry will remain.35

34 Harith bin ‘Amr, his grand father; Hujr, his father.

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[4] ﺃﻴﺎ ﻫِﻨﹾﺩ ﻻ ﺘﹶﻨﹾﻜﺤﻲ ﺒ ﻭ ﻫ ﺔﹰ “O Hind, do not an owl, a weakling, wed.”

Pleading with his daughter Hind not to marry an incompetent weakling.

1- ﺃﻴﺎ ﻫِﻨﺩ، ﻻ ﺘﻨﻜﺤﻲ ﺒ ﻭ ﻫ ﺔﹰ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻋﻘﻴﻘﹶﺘﹸﻪ، ﺃﺤﺴﺒـﺎ 1- O Hind, do not an owl, a weakling, wed. His hair, child’s fuzz; his skin sickly white’n ’red.36

2- ﻤ ﺭ ﺴ ﻌ ﺔﹲ ﺒﻴﻥ ﺃﺭﺴﺎﻏِﻪِ، ﺒ ﻪِ ﻋﺴﻡ، ﻴﺒﺘﹶﻐﻲ ﺃﺭﻨﹶﺒــﺎ 2- A charm he wears around his stiffened wrist. On catching hares he ever does insist37

3- ﻟ ﻴ ﺠ ﻌ لَ ﻓﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻔﱢ ﻪِ ﻜﹶﻌﺒﻬﺎ، ﺤِ ﺫ ﺍ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺔِ ﺃﻥ ﻴﻌﻁﹶﺒﺎ 3- To tie hare feet to his crook’d stiff’nd hand, he thinks that would ‘gainst death and danger stand.

4- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﺨﹸ ﺫ ﺭ ﺍ ﻓﹶ ﺔٍ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹸ ﻌ ﻭ ﺩٍ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﻁﹶﻴﺎﺨﹶﺔٍ، ﺃﺨﺩﺒﺎ 4- For I’m not giv’n to chat; to idly sit. Nor am a blith’ring fool sans sense and wit38

5- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﺫِﻱ ﺭﺜﹾﻴﺔٍ، ﺇﻤﺭٍ، ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗِ ﻴ ﺩ ﻤﺴﺘﻜﺭﻫﺎﹰ ﺃﺼﺤﺒﺎ 5- From weakness, and stiff joints,I suffer not. To lead, and not be led, e’er is my lot.

6- ﻭﻗﺎﻟﹶﺕﹾ: ﺒﻨﹶﻔﹾﺴﻲ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻭ ﻟﹼ ﻤ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺃﻥ ﻴﺸﹾﺠﺒﺎ 6- “ I have enough youth him to give” she cries. “And shoulder-long hair t’give before he dies”.

35 He addresses his father Hujr, and his grandfather ‘al-Harith as “sizes” as both were kings. “Kilab” is the location where his uncle Shurahbil also fell. 36 In contrast to western lore which holds up the owl as a symbol of sagacity and wisdom, the Arabs call a useless, brainless weakling; an owl. 37 Hare feet were used as charms to allay ailments, and ward off hostile or envious eyes. 38 He stresses the seriousness of his advice; that it is not idle, mindless chatter. It also implies that she can rely on his strength rather than wed a fool and weakling.

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7- ﻭ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻫﻲ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﺍﻟﻔﹸﺤﻡ، ﻨﹸﻐﹶﺸﹼﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻁ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺏ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺎ 7- Coal-black hair down neck’n’ shoulders ’ndeed she had, that had with brightest gleam her shoulders clad.

[5] ﺃﺒﺴﺕ ﺒﻪ ﺭﻴﺢ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺏِ “Morning breeze called” Describing rain

1- ﺴﻘﹶﻰ ﻭﺍﺭﺩﺍﺕٍ، ﻭﺍﻟﻘﹶﻠﻴﺏِ، ﻭﻟﹶﻌﻠﹶﻌﺎ ﻤ ﻠِ ﺙﹲ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﻜ ﻲ ﻓﹶﻬﻀﺒﺔ َﺃﻴﻬﺒﺎ 1- On “Waridat”, “Qalib”, “Lala” rain fell, Thenn“Ayhab”;whilst “Simak” stars did in brightness dwell39

2- ﻓ ﻤ ﺭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﺒﺜﹾﻴﻥ: ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻲ ﻋ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﺯ ﺓٍ ﻓﹶ ﺫﹼ ﺍ ﺕِ ﺍﻟﻨِﻘﺎﻉِ، ﻓﺄﻨﺘﺤﻰ ﻭﺘﹶﺼﻭﺒﺎ 2- It passed over cUnaiza, and from there to “Dhat ‘al-Niqaca”, then veered elsewhere40

3- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺩﻟﹼﻰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃﻋﺎﻟﻲ ﻁﹶ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺃ ﺒ ﺴ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻪِ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ، ﻓﺘﺤﻠﱠﺒﺎ 3- When it over “Tumaiyyah” heights hanged low, morn breezes called, and made its’ downpours flow.41

[6] ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لُ ﻤ ﻌ ﻘﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﺒﻨﻭﺍﺼﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ “Whats’ good is tied to horses manes”42

1- ﺍﻟﺨﻴﺭ ﻤﺎ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺱ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﻁﹶ ﻠﱠ ﺏ ﺒِﻨﹶﻭﺍﺼِﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ

39 “Waridat, “Qalib”, “Lala” are locations. The verse mentions “Ayhab” as a plateau. Two bright “Simak”stars were known: ‘al-Simak al-Kamih (The Spearing Simak) and ‘al-Simak al-‘Aazal (the learned simak). The rain here is describe as “Mulith”- lasting several days. The verse highlights, amazingly, the simak stars shining brightly while rain fell for days on several locations. 40 In Imru’ul Qays’s rain poetry, locations under rainfall are meticulously identified, the reason being that such locations having been especially blessed with rain, their reputation would thus rise for being providentially chosen. cUnaiza, is the well known tribe which still prospers in modern c times. “Dhat al Niqa a” means “The place of many marshes”. 41 “Tumaiyyah”: a mountain over which the rain clouds passed. 42 Mohammad al-Fadhl Ibrahim incorporates these verses with the poem that follows. He mentions that hearsay attribute it to Ibrahim b. Bashir ‘al-Ansari. I have followed Dar Sadir’s edition which gives the following fragment as being separate from the poem that follows

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1- The good that rising’n’ setting suns bequeathed. To horses manes is closely bound and weaved.43

2- ﺼ ﺒَ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻭﻤﺎ ﺘ ﻨ ﺼ ﺏ ﻤِﻥ ﺃَ ﻤ ﻡٍ ﺇﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻼ ﺀ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻷﺸﻘﹶﻴﻥ ﻤ ﺼ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ 2- It’s pow’r ‘pon foes distant, not near, descends. And it, more hardship ‘pon wretched, foes sends.44

[7] ﻗﺩ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻬ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸ ﻌ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀ “A widespread raid would soon I see”

1- ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻬ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻐﺎﺭﺓﹶ ﺍﻟﺸﹼﻌﻭﺍﺀ ﺘﹶﺤﻤِﻠﹸﻨﻲ ﺠ ﺭ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤ ﻌ ﺭ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺔﹸ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﺤﻴﻴﻥِ ﺴ ﺭ ﺤ ﻭ ﺏ 1- A widespread raid would soon I see, while borne on ‘a steed lean– cheecked, her body hair well– shorn.45

2- ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺼﺎﺤﺒﻬﺎ، ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻗﺎﻡ ﻴﻠﺠِﻤﻬﺎ، ﻤ ﻐﹾ ﺩ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺯﻭﺭﺍﺀ، ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ 2- Her owner, rising t’ place in mouth the bit, ‘s if climbing camels neck, tree– high, to sit.

3- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺍﻟﺭّﺍﺅﻭﻥ ، ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻻ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻟﻬﻡ ﻏﹸ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻤﻨﻬﺎ، ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﺒ ﻴ ﺏِ 3- At her approach, onlookers would behold Her highest outline ‘n high relief and bold.

4- ﻭِﻗﺎﻓﹸﻬﺎ ﻀﺭِﻡ، ﻭﺠﺭﻴﻬﺎ ﺠﺫِﻡ، ﻭﻟﹶﺤﻤﻬﺎ ﺯِﻴﻡ، ﻭﺍﻟﺒﻁﹾﻥ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ 4- Hawk-like, upright, she stands; her gallop swift. Her flesh hard-wrought; her belly lean in lift.

5- ﻭﺍﻟﻴﺩ ﺴﺎﺒﺤﺔﹲ، ﻭﺍﻟﺭﺠلُ ﻀ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺤ ﺔﹲ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﻴﻥ ﻗﺎﺭِﺤﺔﹲ، ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺘﹾﻥ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺤ ﻭ ﺏ 5- The fore-legs swim; the hind– legs hard at kick The eyes bespark; the back sloping and slick.

43 An equestrian exuberant exultation: Nothing comes from horses except good. 44 “ It” in these lines refers to horse-power. 45 A hirsute horse was considered unprepared, and unsuitable. Hair collects sweat which, when cool after the animal is resting, may affect its health adversely. A horse was also more alert and vigorous if its body hair was razed. The horse here is a mare, and is referred to in the feminine pronoun. The term “steed” refers to a fine horse in general, irrespective of gender.

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6- ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻤﻨﹾﻬﻤِﺭ، ﻭﺍﻟﻨﹼﺸﺩ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺤ ﺩِ ﺭ ﻭﺍﻟﻘﹸﺼﺏ ﻤﻀﻁﹶﻤِﺭ، ﻭﺍﻟﻠﹼﻭﻥ ﻏِﺭﺒِﻴﺏ 6- The sweat flows free, the need for spur she lacks.46 Her bowels sound, her hue th’blackest of blacks

7- ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﺤِ ﻴ ﻥ ﻓ ﺎ ﺽ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺘﹶ ﻔﹶ ﻠ ﺕﹾ ﺼﻘﹾﻌﺎﺀ، ﻻ ﺡ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱢ ﻴ ﺏ 7- To water galloping with all her might, as an eagle who of a wolf caught sight.47

8- ﻓ ﺄ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺸ ﺨﹾ ﺼ ﻪ ﻤﻥ ﻓﻭﻕ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺒ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﻥ ﻤ ﻭ ﻗِ ﻌِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﺸﹶﻨﺎﺨِﻴﺏ 8- Th’Eagle espied the wolf from peaks up high, those highest peaks that lesser ones o’erlie.

9- ﻓ ﺄ ﻗﹾ ﺒ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻭ ﻩ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺓﹰ ﻴﺤﺜﱡﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻫ ﻭ ﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢِ ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﻭ ﻴ ﺏ 9- With wings indrawn, upon him down she dived, with tail-winds her towards her target t’guide.

10- ﺼ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻭﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺼ ﺏ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﻤ ﻡٍ ﺇﻥ ﺍﻟﺸﹼﻘﺎﺀ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻷ ﺸﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤ ﺼ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ 10- Power ’pon foes distant, not near, descends.48 And it more hardship’ pon foes wretched, sends

11- ﻜﺎﻟﺩﻟﻭِ ﺜﹶ ﺒ ﺕﹲ ﻋﺭﺍﻫﺎ ﻭﻫﻲ ﻤ ﺜﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﺇﺫ ﺨﹶﺎﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺫﹾ ﻡ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ 11- As bucket full, whose fast’ning fell, Whose rope had snapped, falls straightly down a well.

12- ﻻ ﻜﺎﻟﱠﺘﻲ ﻓﻲ ﻫ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻁ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺒ ﺔﹰ ﻭﻻ ﻜﹶﻬﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﹼﺫﻱ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻷﺭﺽ ﻤﻁﻠﻭﺏ 12- None’s like the Eagle in her air-bourne assault.49 Nor grounded wolf such dire assault had sought.

13- ﻜﺎﻟﺒﺭﻕِ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﻴﺢِ ﺸﹶ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬﻤﺎ ﻋ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻤﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﺠ ﺘ ﻬ ﺎ ﺩٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻹ ﺼ ﺭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺘﹶﻐﹾﺒﻴﺏ

46 She never needs to be spurred on. She is naturally swift. 47 These lines exemplify the molecular nature of Pre-Islamic Poetry. The poem from now on moves away from describing a fiery steed to a predatory eagle pouncing on a wolf. 48 These lines are repeated here from the previous poem “What’s good is tied to horses manes”. 49 The verse refers to the Eagle, as “white-fronted”, with a white spot on its head, in the feminine gender.

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13- As fast as wind were both; and lightnings’ flash. That neither could be quicker more in dash.

14- ﻓﺄﺩﺭﻜﹶﺘﹾــﻪ ﻓﹶﻨﺎﻟﹶﺘﹾـﻪ ﻤﺨﺎﻟِﺒـُﻬـﺎ ﻓ ﺎ ﻨ ﺴ لﱠ ﻤﻥ ﺘﺤﺘﻬﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻑﱡ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻘﹸ ﻭ ﺏ 14- She caught him,and her claws through him took hold. Yet und’r her broke he free. His side was holed.

15- ﻴ ﻠ ﻭ ﺫﹸ ﺒﺎﻟﺼﺨﹾﺭِ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻤﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﻭ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺨﹾ ﺭِ ﺍﻟﺘﺸﺄﺒﻴﺏ 15- Between the rocks t’protect himself he went. While both their energies, and rain, were spent.50

16- ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺃ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻐﹶ ﺎ ﺜﹸ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻥِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺜﹶ ﻌ ﻔِ ﺭ ﻩ ﻭﺒﺎﻟﻠﱢﺴﺎﻥِ ﻭﺒﺎﻟﺸﺩﻗﹶﻴﻥِ ﺘﹶﺜﹾﺭِﻴﺏ 16- So hard she clawed at ground, in ire she cried. Her tongue and beak bedust’d; of prey deprived.

17- ﻓﺄﺨﻁﹶﺄﺘﹾﻪ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﹶﺎﻴﺎ ﻗِ ﻴ ﺱ ﺃ ﻨ ﻤ ﻠﹸ ﺔٍ ﻭﻻ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺭ ﺯ ﺇ ﻻﱠ ﻭ ﻫ ﻭ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻭ ﺏ 17- By less than a finger he was missed by death. Was snatched alive from death by none than stealth.

18- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻤﻨﹾﺤﺠِﺭﺍﹰ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﻴﺭﺍﻗٍﺒﻬﺎ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺵﹶ ﺇﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺵﹶ ﻤ ﺤ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ 18- Inside his hole he watched her close and clear. And watch’d for life, for life is ever dear.

[8] ﺃﺠﺎﺭﺘﹶﻨـــﺎ O Neigbour!

On his way back from Constantinople, and passing Ankyra, Imru’ul Qays was dying. At the slopes of Mount cAseeb, he saw the grave of a woman, apparently of royal birth, and recited:

1- ﺃﺠﺎﺭﺘﹶﻨﺎ ﺇ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺯﺍﺭ ﻗ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ ﻭﺇﻨﻲ ﻤ ﻘِ ﻴ ﻡ ﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻗ ﺎ ﻡ ﻋ ﺴ ﻴ ﺏ 1- Neighbour! My shrine to yours will rise so near,

50 The verse uses the term “Sha’abeeb” (bursts of rain) in the sense that their energies, the eagles, and the wolf,had petered out, as rain had ceased.

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Close by I’ll stay, s’long as “cAseeb” stands here.

2- ﺃﺠﺎﺭﺘﹶﻨﺎ ﺇﻨﹼﺎ ﻏﹶﺭﻴﺒﺎﻥِ ﻫﻬﻨــﺎ ﻭ ﻜﹸ لﱡ ﻏﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻟ ﻠ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﻴ ﺏ 2- Neigbour! We both o’er here full strangers are And strangers to strangers are rel’tives dear.51

3- ﻓﺄﻥ ﺘﹶﺼِﻠﻴﻨﺎ ﻓﺎﻟﻘﹶﺭﺍﺒﺔﹸ ﺒﻴﻨﹶﻨﺎ ﻭﺇﻥ ﺘﹶﺼﺭِﻤﻴﻨﹶﺎ ﻓﺎﻟﻐﺭﻴﺏ ﻏﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺏ 3- Rel’tives we’ll be, if you feel close to me If not, a stranger e’er will a stranger be.

4- ﺃ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺘﹶﻨﺎ ﻤﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻴﺅﻭﺏ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻫ ﻭ ﺁ ﺕٍ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺯ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ 4- Neighbour! What’s passed will ne’er again appear. And what by Time be brought, though far, is near.

5- ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺱ ﻏﺭﻴﺒﺎﹰ ﻤ ﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻨ ﺎ ﺀ ﺕﹾ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﻩ ﻭ ﻟ ﻜ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﻭﺍﺭﻯ ﺍﻟﺘﱡﺭﺍﺏ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ 5- A stranger’s not one whose home ‘s far away. But one who’s dead, and deep in dust must lay.

[9] ﻴﺎ ﺒﺅﺱ ﻟﻠﻘﹶﻠﹾﺏ O Miserable heart

1- ﻴﺎ ﺒﺅﺱ ﻟ ﻠ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏِ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡِ ﻤﺎ ﺁ ﺒ ﻪ ﺫِﻜﺭﻯ ﺤﺒﻴﺏٍ ﺒ ﺒ ﻌ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽِ ﻗﺩ َ ﺭ ﺍ ﺒ ﻪ 1- What mis’ry struck the heart, as from today. When loves’ mem’ries to’t came, with care, to fray.

2- ﻗﺎﻟﺕﹾ ﺴﻠﹶﻴﻤﻰ ﺃ ﺭ ﺍ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻤﻜﺘﺌﺒﺎﹰ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﺃﺱ ﺒﻌﺩﻱ ﺭ ﺃ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﺸﻴﺏ ﻗﺩ ﻋ ﺎ ﺒ ﻪ 2- Sulaima said “I see today you’re sad to see a head with grey hair now is clad”.

3- ﻭ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺴ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺃ ﺱِ ﺠ ﻤ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻜﹸ ﻤِ ﻌ ﻘﹶ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﻁِ ﺇﺫ ﻨ ﺸﱠ ﺭ ﺕﹶ ﻫ ﺩ ﺍ ﺒ ﻪ 3- Once raven hair did now to greyness fade,

51 See Introduction (II)- “Imru’ul Qays and the Emperor Justinian I- The last years” p. 10.

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Like garment fine that’s thread barenow and frayed.

4- ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺏٍ ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﻜﹸ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻘ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥ ﻗﹸ ﻠﱠ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺃ ﺸ ﺭ ﻓﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤ ﺴ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻭ ﻋ ﺯ ﺍ ﺒ ﻪ 4- A height, where eagles dwell upon its crest I climbed, my soul with deepest awe impressed.

5- ﻋ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻷ ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﺏ ﻤﺎ ﻟ ﻠﹾ ﺠ ﻭ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻡٍ ﻓﹶﻨﹶﺎﻅِﺭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺌ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﻤِﻨﹾﻪ، ﻭ ﻋ ﺯ ﺍ ﺒ ﻪ 5- Intent to see the valley, bright and gay and watch who go, and pastures far away.

6- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﻌ ﻘﱠ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺸﹸ ﻌ ﺙِ ﺍﻟﺭﺅﻭﺱِ ﻜﹶﺄﻥ ﻓﹶﻭﻗﹶﻬﻡ ﻏﺎﹶﺒﻪ 6- With riders down below I hitched my hike. Their dusty, shaggy hair was forest-like.

7- ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺭﻜﺒﻨﺎ ﺭ ﻓ ﻌ ﻨ ﺎ ﻫ ﻥ ﺯ ﻓﹾ ﺯ ﻓﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺍﺤﺘﹶﻭﻴﻨﹶﺎ ﺴ ﻭ ﺍ ﻗﹶ ﺎﹰ ﺜ ﻡ ﺃ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒ ﻪ 7- We soon our mounts to brisky canter raised Past camelmen whose herds quietly grazed.

[10] ﻋ ﺸِ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺒ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ “I came ‘pon homes where ‘Bakarat’ hills stand”

1- ﻏﹶ ﺸِ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺒﺎﻟﺒﻜﹶﺭﺍﺕِ ﻓ ﻌ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 1- I came ‘pon homes where “Bakarat” hills stand, Then cArima”; ‘n “cAyrat” –of stone and sand52

2- ﻓﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻭ لٍ ﻓﹶ ﺤِ ﻠﱢ ﻴ ﺕٍ ﻓ ﺄ ﻜ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻑِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻌِ ﺞٍ ﺍﻟﻰ ﻋ ﺎ ﻗِ لٍ ﻓ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠ ﺏ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻷ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 2- Then “Ghawl”, “Hilleet”, ‘n “Mincaj” were on my way To cAqil”, then to where well-marked “Jubb” lay.53

3- ﻅﹶﻠِﻠﹾﺕﹸ، ﺭﺩﺍﺌﻲ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺭﺃﺴﻲ، ﻗ ﺎ ﻋ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﺃ ﻋ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺤﺼﻰ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻀ ﻲ ﻋ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍﺘﻲ

52 The “Bakarat” hills lie on the Mecca road. “cArima” is a hill of the Beni ‘Amir in Nejd. “cAyrat” is an unidentified location. The verse mentions cAyrat” as “Burqat ‘al ‘Ayrat”- Burqat being stony sandlands. 53 “Ghawl”; “Hileet”, “Mincaj” and “ cAqil” are unidentified locations. Only “Jubb” is identified as being well marked. The verse mentions “Jubb al – Imarat” – Jubb of the road – marks.

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3- My cloak to shade my head, I sat with fears to count pebbles; unstopp’d poured down my tears

4- ﺃﻋﻨﹼﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺘﱠﻬﻤﺎﻡِ ﻭﺍﻟﺫﱢﻜﹶﺭﺍﺕِ ﻴﺒِﺘﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻡ ﻤﻌﺘﹶﻜِﺭﺍﺕِ 4- Help me in my sustained and gnawing care that fastens hard, laying the care-worn bare.

5- ﺒﻠﹶﻴلِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﹼ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡِ ﺃ ﻭ ﻭ ﺼِ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﺒ ﻤ ﺜﹾ ﻠِ ﻪِ ﻤ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻴ ﺴ ﺔﹰ ﺃﻴﺎﻤﻬﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻜِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 5- Mem’ries of care, as long as longest night. As long as days when care had peaked its height.

6- ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﻭﺩﻓﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻘِﺭﺍﺏ ﻭﻨﹸﻤﺭﻗﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 6- As if my co-rider, scabb’rd; pillow Were on wild-ass gall’ping t’wat’ry hollow.54

7- ﺃ ﺭ ﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺤ ﻘﹾ ﺏٍ ﺤِ ﻴ ﺎ لٍ ﻁ ﺭ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶ ﺫﹶ ﻭ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺠ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺍﻷﺭﺒﻊ ﺍ ﻷ ﺸِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 7- It brayed loud, like male inflamed with lust kicks at young females to do what he must.55

8- ﻋﻨﻴﻑٍ ﺒﺘﹶﺠﻤﻴﻊِ ﺍﻟﻀﺭ ﺍ ﺌ ﺭِ ﻓ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺵٍ ﺴﺘﻴﻡٍ ﻜﺫﻟﻕ ِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺯ ﺝ ﺫﻱ ﺫ َ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 8- Vicious bigamist, lusty, unrestrained Scurr’lous, foul-mouthed, bad-tempered and untamed.56

9- ﻭ ﻴ ﺄ ﻜﹸ ﻠ ﻥ ﺒﻬﻤﻰ ﺠ ﻌ ﺩ ﺓﹰ ﺤ ﺒ ﺸ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﻭ ﻴ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺒ ﻥ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀِ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 9- They graze th’ “Buhma”, of verdant, softest stuff, and can the very coldest water, quaff.57

10- ﻓ ﺄ ﻭ ﺭ ﺩ ﻫ ﺎ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﻗﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﺃ ﻨ ﻴ ﺴ ﻪ ﻴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺫِ ﺭ ﻥ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 10- He waters them where few other beasts go near.

54 Describing the hectic speed and vigour of his camel. His baggage, including scabbard, pillow, etc… signify the added weight his mount takes in its stride. 55 His mount has the brimming energy of a male camel when courting young females. 56 He likens his over-energetic camel to a vicious bigamist who vigourously and unabashedly abuses his four wives. 57 He praises the health and hardihood of his camels, both male and female. They feed on dark-green succulent “Buhma” and can drink the coldest of water, which less hardy camels cannot drink.

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Being of “cAmr-of-the-hunting-hut”, in fear.58

11- ﺘﹶ ﻠِ ﺙﱡ ﺍﻟﺤﺼﻰ ﻟﹶ ﺜ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﺴ ﻤ ﺭٍ ﺭﺯﻴﻨﹶ ﺔٍ ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺯِ ﻥ ﻻ ﻜﹸ ﺯ ﻡٍ ﻭﻻ ﻤ ﻌِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 11- Beneath their hard hoofs, pebbles t’dust are done Hoofs short yet heavy, th’hair around them gone.59

12- ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﺃﺫﹾﻨﺎﺒﺎﹰ ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻓﹸﺭﻭﻋﻬﺎ ﻋﺭﻯ ﺨِ ﻠﹶ لٍ ﻤ ﺸ ﻬ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻀ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 12- As if their tails high parts, in thickness bold, were braided, plaited belts that scabbards hold.

13- ﻭﻋﻨﹾﺱ ٍﻜﺄﻟﻭﺍﺡ ِ ﺍﻹﺭﺍﻥ ِ ﻨِﺴﺄﺘـُﻬﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻻﺤِﺏ ﻜﺎﻟﺒﺭﺩِ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕِ 13- To drive a camel, hard as death-bed’s wood, o’er scenic roads, like coloured cloaks; I would. 60

14- ﻓﹶ ﻐﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﺭ ﺘ ﻬ ﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩِ ﺒ ﺩﻥ ِ ﺭ ﺯ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺘـُﻐﺎﻟﻰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻋﻭﺝ ٍﻟﻬﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺩِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺕِ 14- I left her-once healthy-weakened and spent. Yet she plods on, on weary legs and bent.61

15- ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻴ ﺽ ﻜﺎﻟﻤِﺨﹾﺭﺍﻕِ ﺒ ـ ﻠ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺤ ـَ ﺩ ﻩ ﻭ ﻫ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﻕ ِ ﻭﺍﻟﻘﹶﺼﺭﺍﺕِ

15- A whetted sword, as white as kerchief’s white At necks and legs is blunt’d by strikes of night.62

[11] ﻨﺎﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻠِ ﻲ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﺩِ “the carefree sleep, the careworn sleepless stay”. Threatening the Beni Assad, his father’s slayers

58 “`Amr-of-the-hunting-hut”: a famous hunter, identified as cAmr of the Beni Thcal, of the Tayy tribe. Hunters put together a tiny hut at watering place to hide in while stalking game, especially wild-ass. So deadly a shot was cAmr that wild-ass were afraid of approaching watering places. Such fear spread even to domesticated animals such as camels. 59 Refers to hard– worn wild– ass hoofs, their pastems are hairless. 60 Death-bed: Among Christians was a stretcher-like bed made of hardest wood for durability and maximum usage, on which the dead were laid out prior to burial. The road is likened to a coloured cloak in its scenic diversity. 61 The she-camel, once stout and healthy, had been exhausted by arduous long-distance journeys, and yet plods bravely on. 62 White as kerchief: long white kerchiefs were twisted and used to chastise young erring children.

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1- ﺘﹶﻁﹶﺎﻭلَ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹸ ﻙ ﺒﺎﻹﺜﻤِﺩِ، ﻭﻨﺎﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻠ ﻲ ﻭﻟﻡ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﺩِ 1- Your nights at “Ithmid” slowly drag their way 63 The carefree sleep; you, careworn , sleepless stay.

2- ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻜﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔِ ﺫﻱ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﺌِﺩِ، ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﻤ ﺩِ 2- The night slept well; his sleep was wreaked with pain. As sickly eyes in painful sleep had lain.64

3- ﻭ ﺫﹶ ﻟِ ﻙ ﻤ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺠﺎﺀﻨﻲ، ﻭ ﺨﹸ ﺒ ﺭ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻋ ﻥ ﺍﺒﻲ ﺍ ﻷ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩِ 3- And that was due to news to me that came Of what he, Abul Aswad, did declaim.65

4- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﻋ ﻥ ﻨﹶﺜﹶﺎ ﻏﹶﻴﺭِﻩ ﺠﺎﺀﻨﻲ ﻭ ﺠ ﺭ ﺡ ﺍﻟﻠﱢﺴﺎﻥِ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﺭ ﺡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩِ 4- I wish other news through my ears had bored. Since cut of tongue cuts deep as cut of sword.

5- ﻟﹶﻘﹸﻠﹾﺕﹸ، ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻭلِ، ﻤﺎ ﻻ ﻴ ﺯ ﺍ لُ ﻴ ﺅْ ﺜﹶ ﺭ ﻋﻨﹼﻲ، ﻴ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﻨﹶـــــﺩِ 5- For what I’d say for ever more will stay. And time e’er will recite what I shall say.

6- ﺒﺄﻱ ﻋﻼﻗﹶﺘِﻨﺎ، ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻏﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﻥ ، ﺃ ﻋ ﻥ ﺩ ﻡِ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺩِ 6- Whose blood, for whose, do you desire be shed. The blood of cAmr” for “Murthid” who’s now dead?66

7- ﻓﺈﻥ ﺘﹶﺩﻓِﻨﻭﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻻ ﻨﹸ ﺨﹾ ﻔِ ﻪِ ﻭﺃﻥ ﺘﹶﺒﻌﺜﻭﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺭ ﺏ ﻻ ﻨﹶ ﻘﹾ ﻌ ﺩِ 7- Th’ailment interr, and it we’ll not exhume. Raise war; and we’ll sit not in fear of doom.

63 “Ithmid”: a location. 64 The verse specifies the eye-sickness as “Ramad”- Trachoma. 65 ‘Abul ‘Aswad was one of the Beni , the clan Imru’ul Qays raided, mistaking them for his fathers’ slayers. ‘Abul ‘Aswad lampooned him, effectively it seems, so as to cost him sleepless nights. 66 c Amr was a relative. Murthid was one of the Beni Assad. The blood feud goes on..

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8- ﻓﺈﻥ ﺜﹶﻘﹾﺘﹸﻠﹸﻭﻨﺎ ﻨﹸـﻘﺘـَﻠﻜﹸﻡ، ﻭ ﺇ ﻥ ﺘﻘﺼِﺩﻭﺍ ﻟِﺩﻡ ﻨﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺼِ ﺩِ 8- Kill one of us, many of you we’ll kill. Should you spare blood of ours, spare yours we will.

9- ﻤﺘﻰ ﻋﻬﺩﻨﺎ ﺒﻁِﻌِﺎﻥِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹸ ﻤ ﺎ ﺓِ ﻭﺍﻟﺤﻤﺩِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﺩِ ﻭﺍﻟﺴﺅَﺩﺩِ 9- We had, and still have thrusting champions brave. For glory ’n honour, thanks they ever gave.

10- ﻭ ﺒ ﻨﹾ ﻲِ ﺍﻟﻘِﺒﺎﺏِ، ﻭ ﻤ لْ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﹼﺎﺭِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻁﹶ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻔﹾ ﺄ ﺩِ 10- Who domes did build; and whats’ empty did fill. And home fires stoked to blaze when low and still.

11- ﻭﺃﻋﺩﺩﺕﹸ، ﻟِﻠﹾﺤﺭﺏِ، ﻭ ﺜﱠ ﺎ ﺒ ﺔﹰ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺤ ﺜﹼ ﺔِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺭ ﻭ ﺩِ 11- For war I prepared a steed of pounce and pace. When reigned halts quick; when spurred is quick to race

12- ﺴﺒﻭﺤﺎﹰ، ﺠﻤﻭﺤﺎﹰ، ﻭﺇﺤﻀﺎﺭﻫﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﻌ ﻤ ﻌ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻌ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻭ ﻗﹶَ ﺩِ 12- Her fore legs swim, she bolts in vig’rous craze. Her hoof-beat: crackling bonfires ablaze.

13- ﻭ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﺩ ﻭ ﺓٍ ﺍﻟﺴﻙ، ﻤ ﻭ ﻀ ﻭ ﻨ ﺔﹰ ﺘ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀ لُ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻁﱠ ﻲ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩِ 13- Chain mail! Whose weave is close, and firm in style When folded, ‘comes as sharp as sharpest file.

14- ﺘﹶ ﻔ ﻴ ﺽ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀِ ﺃﺭﺩﺍﻨﹸﻬﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ ﻴ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺘ ﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺩ ﺠ ﺩِ 14- It’s lengthy sleeves leaves one in cover bound. As flash floods sweep o’er solid level gound.

15- ﻭ ﻤ ﻁﹾ ﺭِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺭِ ﺸ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍﻟﺠﺭﻭﺭ ﻤ ﻥ ﺨﹸ ﻠﹸ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺠ ﺭ ﺩِ 15- A lance! Goes straight as well-made, well-rope should Rope made from smooth and firm date-palm pulpwood.

16- ﻭﺫﺍ ﺸﹸﻁﹶﺏٍ، ﻏ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻀ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻤ ﻪ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻌ ﻅﹾ ﻡِ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﺄ ﺩِ 16- A fluted sword that cuts to deepest ends.

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When hits the bone, it fractures not nor bends.

[12] ﻭ ﻟ ﻭ ﺃﻨﱢﻲ ﻫ ﻠﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ﺄ ﺭ ﺽِ ﻗﹶﻭﻤﻲ "if only I in my own land would die"

Recited at his death. Having received Justinian’s poisoned cloak, Imru’ul Qays bathed, anointed himself, and wore it. His skin broke into sores which he tried to cure till he reached Ankyra. His health deteriorated rapidly and he was close to death when he recited these lines.67 1- ﺃﻻ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭِ ﺒﻥ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭٍ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺫﻟﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﺭِﻴﺩﺍ 1- Do tell the sons of “Hujr bin cAmr”, and tell the lonesome folk in lonely land who dwell.

2- ﺒﺄﻨﻲ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺒ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﺀ ﻨﻔﹾﺱ ٍ ﻭﻟﻡ ﺃُ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﻕﹾ ﺴِ ﻼ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺍﻭ ﺤﺩﻴﺩﺍ 2- That I as mortal mere have lived and gone And was created not from iron or stone.

3- ﻓﹶ ﻠ ﻭ ﺍﻨﻲ ﻫ ﻠﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒﺩﺍﺭ ﻗﹶﻭﻤﻲ ﻟﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﺤ ﻕﹲ ﻻ ﺨﹸﻠﻭﺩﺍ 3- If only I, in my own land would die. I’d say that death was right, immortal not am I.68

4- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻜِ ﻨ ﻲ ﻫ ﻠﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒﺄﺭﺽ ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻋﻥ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺒﻌﻴﺩﺍ 4- But will perish, estranged in alien land. So far from yours, so very far, I stand.

5- ﺃﻋﺎﻟِﺞ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺼ ﺭ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻭﺃﺠﺩِﺭ ﺒﺎﻟﻤﻨﻴﺔ ﺃﻥ ﺘﻌﻭﺩﺍ 5- Each day, I, caesar’s realm t’endure must learn. With pleas to death to hasten death’s return.69

67 Here, I have used Mohammad ‘al-Fadhl Ibrahim’s version of this poem. (p.213). 68 He yearns to die in bed among his own people, not as a stranger wandering in foreign lands in quest of immortal fame. The way he is dying now is not the death that is his birthright– to die at home. 69 His days are living death; he pleads with death to return to him from the living death he has to endure.

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6- ﺒ ﺄ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻡِ ﻻ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﺏ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ ﻭﻻ ﺸ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻴ ﺴ ﻨِ ﺩ ﺃﻭ ﻴﻌﻭﺩﺍ 6- In Roman land, no kith nor kin are there. No curer there to cure, comfort, or care.

7- ﻭ ﻟ ﻭ ﻭ ﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺴِﺱ ٍ ﻀﺤﻴﺎ ﺍﻭ ﻭ ﺭ ﺩ ﻥ ﺒﻨﺎ ﺯ ِﺭﻭﺩﺍ 7- I’d plead with death t’let me in “Asays” die. Or take me on to “Zirwad” there to lie.70

8- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹸ ﺹٍ ﺘﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱡ ﻤ ﻘﹶ ﻠﱠ ﺩ ﺍ ﺕٍ ﺃ ﺯِ ﻤ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﻥ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻌ ﺩِ ﻓﹾ ﻥ ﻋﻭﺩﺍ 8- On young she-camels, like necklaces, are their reins Who have no time to graze on for their pains.71

[13] ﺘﹶ ﺫﹶ ﻜﱠ ﺭ ﺕ ﻫِ ﻨ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺃﺘﺭﺍﺒِﻬﺎ “Remember Hind and her cronies Recalling his daughter Hind when he was at Justinian’s court.

1- ﺃ ﺃ ﺫ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺴ ﻙ ﻤﺎ ﻟﻥ ﻴﻌﻭﺩﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﺝ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﹼ ﺫ ﻜﱡ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻤﻴﺩﺍ 1- In recalling what will nev’r again return. You’ve let a grieving heart with mem’ries burn.

2- ﺘ ﺫ ﻜﱠ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﻫ ﻨ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺃﺘﺭﺍﺒِﻬــــــﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﺯ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥ ﻜ ﻨ ﺕﹶ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻤﺴﺘﹶﻘِﻴﺩﺍ 2- For I did Hind and cronies ‘f hers recall. And times when, you t’her whims, yourself let fall.

3- ﻭﺍﻴﺎﻡ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻌ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺘﹸ ﻁ ﻴ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﻭِ ﻱ ﻭﺘﻌﺼﻲ ﺍﻟﺭﺸﻴﺩﺍ 3- Days about her state you wond’ring fell: T’obey th’vile, against the wise rebel.

4- ﻭﺘﹶﻐﹾﺩﻭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﻫ ﺎ ﻭﺘﹸﺭﻭﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺩ ﻴ ﻡ ﻭﺘﹸﺼﺒﻲ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﺭِﻴﺩﺍ 4- In morrow’s hunt, beasts she pursues in chase. T’fellows serves drink, and does shy girls embrace.72

70 “Asays “ and “Zirwad” are locations he prefers to die in. 71 he dreams of young she-camels that would bear him away so swiftly as not to have time to graze.

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5- ﻭ ﻴ ﻌ ﺠِ ﺒ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻬﻭ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺴﻤِﻌﺎﺕِ ﻓ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹶ ﺃ ﺯ ﻤ ﻌ ﺕﹶ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﺼﺩﻭﺩﺍ 5- Amazed at her gossip and love of fun You wonder if her you had better shun.

6- ﻓﺄﻥ ﻴ ﻙ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﺃﺘﻰ ﺩﻭﻨﹶﻪ ﺤﻭﺍﺩﺙ ﺘﹸ ﻨﹾﺴِﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻴ ﺎ ﺀ ﺍﻟﺠﻠﻴﺩﺍ 6- For there are times when dire events do let the studious their correct brav’ry, forget.

7- ﻓﻘﺩ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻓﻴﻤﺎ ﻤﻀﻰ ﻤ ﺼ ﻌ ﺒ ﺎﹶ ﺃ ﺒ ﻲ ﺍﻟﺨِﻁﺎﻡِ ﻋﺯﻴﺯﺍﹰ ﻤﺭِﻴﺩﺍ 7- So tough and forbidding in th’past was I. Untamed, unreigned; my ‘ntentions hard and high.

8- ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺼ ﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻜِ ﻪِ ﻓ ﺄ ﻭ ﺠ ﻬ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭ ﺭ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﺒﺭﻴﺩﺍ 8- As Caesar’s boon fellow, I did reside in hon’r; and giv’n dispatch pacers to ride73

9- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﺯﺩﺤﻤﻨﺎ ﻋﻠﹶﻰ ﺴِ ﻜﱠ ﺔٍ ﺴ ﺒ ﻘﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﻔﹸﺭﺍﻨِﻕﹶ ﺴِ ﺒ ﻘ ﺎﹰ ﺒﻌﻴﺩﺍ 9- If jostling, crowding lions ‘round me I find on th’way; I speed and leave them far behind.

10- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃﺘﹶﻤﻨﹼﻰ ﻓﹶﺄﻟﹾﻘﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﹶﻰ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺼ ﺒِ ﺢ ﺍﻟﻠﻴلُ ﻋِﻨﹾﺩﻱ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ 10- I may wish; I, my wishes may fulfil. My nights may yet with grateful grace lie still.

11- ﻭﺃﻟﹾﺒﺱ ﻟﻠﺤ ﺭ ﺏِ ﺃﺜﻭﺍﺒﻬـــﺎ ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﻟ ﻠ ﺭ ﻭ ﻉِ ﻁ ﺭ ﻓ ﺎﹰ ﻋﺘﻴﺩﺍ 11- For war, warlike armour I yet may wear. And mount warlike steeds fearsome fray to dare.

12- ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺡِ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕﹶ ﺒﻌﺩ ﺍﻟﻌِﺸﹶﺎﺀ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻌ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍﻟﹾﻭﻗﹸﻭﺩﺍ 12- Behold lightning, my friend, past fall of night. Lighting all as fire–lighters set fuel alight.

72 The verse mentions the girls as “Khareed”- attractive, house bound slave girls who shy away from leaving the house. 73 The verse mentions “bareed”, swift horses that can gallop long distances non-stop and were used by dispatch riders carrying urgent messages.

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13- ﻴﻀﻲﺀ ﺴ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻩ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻋﻼ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺜِ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻻﹰ ﻭ ﻤ ﺯ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻨﹶﻀﻴﺩﺍ 13- It’s flashing light, when streaking up on high, lights up clouds upon heavier clouds that lie.

14- ﻓﹶﻠﻤﺎ ﺘﻨﺯل ﻤﻥ ﻜﹶ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﺒ ﻲ ﻭﻜﺎﺩ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺭ ﺏِ ﻴﻐﺸﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ 14- As clouds from mount “Kawkab” so low were bound It seemed that they were bound to soon touch ground.

15- ﺃ ﺒ ﺴ ﺕﹾ ﺒﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﻓﺎﺴﺘﺎﻗﹶﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﺯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻪ ﻭﺍﻟﺠﻠﻭﺩﺍ 15- Becalmed clouds called out to the wind for aid. It blew, and, stoppers pulled, the wat’ry load was laid.

16- ﺴ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ﻪِ ﺠ ﺒ ﻠ ﻰ ﻁﹶﻲﺀ ﻭﺤﻴﺎ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ ﻠ ﺔﹶ ﻤِﻨﹼﺎ ﺤﺭﻴﺩﺍ 16- The two mounts’f “Tayy”; may th’rain clouds water well. And those palm orchards ‘n which we choose to dwell.74

17- ﻓﹶ ﺄ ﻭ ﺼ ﻴ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺒِ ﻁِ ﻌ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻜﹸﻤﺎﺓِ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ ﺃ ﺭ ﺍ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ 17- For champions’ thrusts to you I’ll recommend. When lively thrusting champions so intend.

18- ﻓﹶ ﻨِ ﻌ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺱ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺠ ﺎ ﺝ ِ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﺼ لﱠ ﺍﻟﺤﺩﻴﺩﺍ 18- Praised be the knights midst swirling clouds of dust clanging steel ‘pon steel in heat of thrust.

19- ﻭ ﻨِ ﻌ ﻡ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﺎﻗِلُ ﻟ ﻠﹾ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻔِ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺨِ ﻴ ﻑﹶ ﻤﻥ ﺫ ﺍ ﺌِ ﺩٍ ﺍﻥ ﺘﺠﻴﺩﺍ 19- Praised be mountain strongholds t’those in fear of hot pursuit, when hot pursuit is near.

20- ﻜ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﻀﻴﻑ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸِ ﺘﹶ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺸﺎﺭِﻉ ﺃﻀﺤﺕ ﺠﻠِﻴﺩﺍ 20- Gen’rous to guests in winter’s cold are they. When wat’ring ducts are froz’n at break of day.75

74 The two mounts of Tayy are identified as “Mount Aja, and mount Selma. 75 Watering ducts: from which animals drink.

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[14] ﷲ ﺯﺒﺩﺍﻥ O for Zabdan A fragment. 1- ﷲ ﺯ ﺒ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥ ﺃﻤﺴﻰ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺠ ﻠﹶ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺩ لٍ ﺃ ﺼ ﻡ ﻤﻨﹾﻀﻭﺩﺍ 1- O for “Zabdan”, leveled to hardest ground76 That once was built with hardest stone hard bound.

2- ﻻ ﻴ ﻔﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﻓِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻜ لﱠ ﻤﻨﹾﻁِﻘِﻬﻡ ﺇﻻ ﺴِﺭﺍﺭﺍ ً ﺘﹶ ﺨ ﺎ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻭ ﺕﹶ ﻤﺭﺩﻭﺩﺍ 2- Folk there absorb not their own speech and sound In secret talk, you’d think the sound rebounds 77

[15] ﺃﺭﻯ ﺍﺒﻠﻲ My Camels: (A fragment) In praise of Qays and Shamr, sons of Zuhair, a son of Salaman b. Thcal. 1- ﺃﺭﻯ ﺇﺒِﻠﻲ، ﻭﺍﻟﺤﻤﺩ ﻟﻠﹼﻪ، ﺃ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﺜ ﻘ ﺎ ﻻﹰ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﺴﺘﹶﻘﹾﺒﻠﹶﺘﻬﺎ ﺼﻌﻭﺩﻫﺎ 1- My Camels, God be Praised, are well in weight. That’s seen when they struggle up on a height.

2- ﺭﻋﺕ ﺒِ ﺤِ ﻴ ﺎ لِ ﺍ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﻲ ﺯ ﻫ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻜِﻠِﻴﻬِﻤﺎ ﻤﻌﺎ ﺘ ﺤ ﺴ ﻴ ﺏ ﺤﺘﻰ ﻀ ﺎ ﻕﹶ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﺠ ﻠ ﻭ ﺩ ﻫ ﺎ 2- With “Zuhair’s” sons, herds they grazed; weight they gained. Until their hides with weight were sorely strained.

[16] ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙ ﺒَِ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ Turn upon Sacad.

1- ﻟﻘﺩ ﺭ ﺤ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺱ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺯﺠﺭﺘﹸﻬــــﺎ ﻭﻫﻨﺎ ً ﻭ ﻗ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻙِ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ 1- I drove th’reddish she-camels; them I assailed. For on them rides he who from th’best lines hailed78

76 “Zobdan” probably once a fort, now laid waste. 77 The atmosphere is intensely secretive and conspiratorial. People cant even hear themselves talk. Sounds echo across then rebound to the source. He is imagining the days when zobdan was populated.

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2- ﻭﻋﻠﻴﻙ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﺒﻥ ﺍﻟﻀﺒﺎﺏ ﻓﺄﺴﺭِﻋﻲ ﺴ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺴﻌﺩٍ، ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙِ ﺒِﺴﻌــــﺩِ 2- To “Sacad bin ‘al-Dhabab” be on your way. To Sacad! Reach Sacad you must, so pace away.

3- ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﻴ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺨﺎﺌِﻔﻴﻥ ﻭﺘﹶﻨﹾـــﺩﻯ ﻴﺩﻩ ﻋﻁﺎﺀ ﻤﻥ ﻁﺎﺭﻓﺎﺕ ﻭﺘـُﻠﹾـﺩ ِ 3- The safest refuge “Sacad” gave those in fear. His hands free with largess that he held dear.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﻉ ﺘﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺭ ﻉ ﻤﻥ ﺇﻴــــﺎﺩٍ ﺒﻴﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺒﻴﺙِ ﺍﻷﻜﺭﻤﻴﻥ ﻭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩِ 4- His line a branch from “’Ayad’s” House descends. T’noble “Nabeet” and “Burd” his blood line tends.79

[17] ﺃ ﺫ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻲ “from me much verse I ward away”

1- ﺃ ﺫ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻲ ﻋﻨﱢﻲ ﺫِﻴﺎﺩﺍ ﺫِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺩ ﻏﹸ ﻼ ﻡٍ ﺠ ﺭِ ﻱ ﺀٍ ﺠﺭﺍﺩﺍ 1- From me much verse I ward, with vig’r, away As a brave boy keeps a locust swarm at bay

2- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤـــــﺎ ﻜﹶﺜــــُﺭﻥ ﻭﻋﻨﱠﻴﻨﹶـــــــــﻪ ﺘﹶﺨﹶﻴــــﺭ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬـــــﻥ ﺸﹶﺘﹼـــﻰ ﺠِﻴــﺎﺩﺍ 2- Wearied; the swarm growing so dense and deep. The choicest ones he felled, he chose to keep.

3- ﻓﹶ ﺄَ ﻋ ﺯِ لُ ﻤﺭﺠﺎﻨﹶﻬــــﺎ ﺠﺎﻨِﺒــــﺎﹰ ﻭﺁﺨﹸـــﺫﹸ ﻤــﻥ ﺩﺭﻫــﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺘﹶﺠــﺎﺩﺍ 3- So I, coral among verses I laid aside.

78 Reddish-brown camels were considered superior. He assails them with rebuke for their tardiness at night, reminding them of the rider’s brilliant lineage, and that they should show more respect for their rider and hasten their paces. 79 ‘Ayad, one of the most ancient of Arab tribal Patriarchs. “Nabeet” and “Burd” descend from The House of ‘Ayad.

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And those jewels I find `mongst them, I prized.

[18] ﺴﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻙ ﺸﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹲ “My longings for you rise”

Recited when heading for Constantinople to appeal to the Emperor Justinian for support against his foes, the Beni Assad:

1- ﺴﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻙ ﺸ ﻭ ﻕﹲ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻤﺎ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺃﻗﹾﺼﺭﺍ ﻭ ﺤ ﻠﹼ ﺕﹾ ﺴﻠﹶﻴﻤﻰ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﻥ ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﺭ ﻋ ﺭ ﺍ 1- My Longing for you rise, after idling low. Sulayma’s now at “ Ar ‘ar;” after “Qaww”.

2- ﻜِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺔﹲ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻭﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺼﺩﺭ ﻭﺩﻫـﺎ ﻤ ﺠ ﺎ ﻭِ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻏﹶ ﺴ ﺎ ﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﺤﻲ ﻴﻌﻤـﺭﺍ 2- Kinanite is she; her love my bos’m swells, Betimes at “Ycamur”, and “Ghassan”, she dwells80

3- ﺒِ ﻌ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻲ ﻅﹶ ﻌ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺤﻤﻠﻭﺍ ﻟﹶﺩﻯ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻷ ﻓ ﻼ ﺝِ ﻤِﻥ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺏِ ﺘﻴﻤﺭﺍ 3- I watched in pain as howdah delivers them to banks of “Taymar’s” num’ rous rivers.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﻬ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻵ لِ ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻜﹶﻤﺸﻭﺍ ﺤ ﺩ ﺍ ﺌ ـ ﻕﹶ ﺩ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﺃﻭ ﺴ ﻔ ﻴ ﻨ ـ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻘﹶﺒــﱠﺭﺍ 4- So high, well-lad’n were their howdahs, and fair. Like “Dom” trees, or, tar-keeled ships rich with ware81

5- ﺃﻭ ﺍﻟﻤﻜﹾﺭﻋﺎﺕِ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶﺨﻴلِ ﺍﺒﻥ ﻴ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻥٍ ﺩﻭﻴـﻥ ﺍﻟﺼﻔـﺎ ﺍﻟﻼﺌـﻲ ﻴﻠﻴــﻥ 5- Like well-watered date palms rise as high as “Yamin’s” ships; that past “Mushaqqar” lie82

80 Kinanite: She hails from Beni Kinana, a cousin-clan of the Poet. “Ycamur” and “Ghassan” are a Yemeni location, and a tribe, respectively. He implies that she moves about and dwells in remote lands, thereby inflaming his longings for her. 81 Dom trees: a species of tree rising to great heights, flourishing in ‘Al-Yemen.

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6- ﺴ ﻭ ﺍ ﻤِ ﻕﹶ ﺤ ﺒ ﺎ ﺭٍ ﺃﺜﻴﺕٍ ﻓﹸ ﺭ ﻭ ﻋ ﻪ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﻗِ ﻨﹾ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺒﺴﺭ ِﺃﺤﻤﺭﺍ 6- Tall palms; with dates and lush foliage unckeched. Tall howdahs; with yellow-red wool bedecked.

7- ﺤ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﺒﻨﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺁل ﻴ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻥٍ ﺒ ﺄ ﺴ ﻴ ﺎ ﻓِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻭﺃﻭﻗﹶـــﺭﺍ 7- “Rabdaa`” their palms from “Yamin” with sword protect. Lest they its mell`wing fruit from far detect.83

8- ﻭﺃﺭﻀﻰ ﺒﻨﹶﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀِ ﻭ ﺍﹾ ﻋ ﺜﹶ ﻡ ﺯ ﻫ ﺭ ﻩ ﻭ ﺍ ﻜ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤ ﻪ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻬﺼـﺭﺍ 8- Proud were “Rabdaa`” of their produce mellow; That hangs, in red enclustered, and yellow.

9- ﺃﻁﺎﻓﹶﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺤ ﻴ ﻼ ﻥ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻗ ﻁ ﺎ ﻋِ ﻪِ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺩ ﺩ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶﺤﻴﺭﺍ 9- “Gilan” to prune and water th`palms, were hired. Viewing the palms` perfection, eyes grow tired.84

10- ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺩﻤﻰ ﺸﹶ ﻔﹾ ﻊٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﻤ ﺭ ﻤ ﺭٍ ﻜﹶﺴﺎ ﻤِ ﺯ ﺒ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺠﻭﻡ ﻭ ﺸ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻤﺼﻭﺭﺍ 10- Howdahs, `mbellished, through white mirage they sway Like marble icons down the “Sajoom” way.85

11- ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺌِ ﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻥ ﻭ ﺼ ﻭ ﻥٍ ﻭ ﻨِ ﻌ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﻴ ﻥ ﻴ ﺎ ﻗ ﻭ ﺘ ﺎﹶ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺫﹾ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻤ ﻔﹶ ﻘﹶﱠ ـ ﺭ ﺍ 11- Women, brought up in lavish love and care. In wealth and grace; finely-wrought jewels, wear.

12- ﻭ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺢ ﺴ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﻘﱠ ﺔٍ ﺤِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺘﹸ ﺨﹶ ﺹ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﻙٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙِ ﺃّﺫﹾﻓﹶﺭﺍ 12- With choicest musk they are so well perfumed. Their wafting scent, across a distance, bloom’d.

82 Ibn Yamin was a famous shipmaster in Bahrain, whose tall ships plied the seas. The verse mentions “Safa” and “Mushaqqar”; two mansions in Yamama, famed for their tall date palms. 83 The “Rabdaa`” are identified as an Ethiopic clan famed for their lush palm orchards. The “Yamin” a clan of shipmasters and date growers. “They” in the second line refers to the Yamin clan. 84 “Gilan” refers to workmen from the Gilan province of Persia, hired by the Persian emperor Xerxes to prune and water the palm groves in the vicinity of Bahrain. 85 He compares howdahs swaying through whitish mirage to icons topping white marble idols in “Sajoom” valley, known for its marble. These wayside icons were intended for travelers to offer prayers to. The whiteness of the icons, marble pedestals is akin to the mirage’s whitish shimmer.

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13- ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺃُ ﻟ ﻭِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬِ ﻨﹾ ﺩِ ﺫ ﺍ ﻜِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺭ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﻟﹸﺒﻨﻰ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ، ﺍﻟﻤﻘﹶﺘﱠــﺭﺍ 13- Their fine perfume was in fine ingredients fixed. Of “Ban”, “Alwi”; of “Rend” , “Lubna”- well-mixed.86

14- ﻏﹶ ﻠِ ﻘﹾ ﻥ ﺒ ﺭ ﻫ ﻥٍ ﻤﻥ ﺤﺒﻴﺏٍ ﺒﻪ ﺇ ﺩ ﻋ ﺕﹾ ﺴﻠِﻴﻤﻰ ﻓﺄﻤﺴﻰ ﺤﺒﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﻗﺩ ﺜﹶﺒﺜﹾﺭﺍ 14- Mortgaged their hearts and left their hearts unpaid . Sulayma broke what I’ve in mortgage laid87.

15- ﻭﻜﺎﻥ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺴ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﺩﻫﺭ ﺨﹸ ﻠﱠ ﺔﹲ ﻴ ﺴ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻕﹸ ﺒﺎﻟﻁﺭﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺘﱠﺭﺍ 15- Before, as vis`ting friend, to her I went in stealth; well-guarded was her honoured tent.

16- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻨﺎل ﻤﻨﻬﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻅﹾ ﺭ ﺓﹰ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻊ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﻪ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺕﹶ ﻜﺄﺱ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﻭﺡ ﺍﻟﻤﺨﻤﺭﺍ 16- Her, I surprised, but my courage expired. As wine-addict fears wine he so desired.

17- ﻨﹶ ﺯِ ﻴ ﻑﹲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗ ﺎ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺠ ﻪٍ ﺘ ﻤ ﺎ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺘﹸﺭﺍﺸِﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﺅﺍﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭّ ﺨﹾ ﺹ ﺃ ﻻﹼ ﺘﹶ ﺨﹶ ﺜﱠ ﺭ ﺍ 17- Languid and lax, like drunkard she appeared. She strained to stand upright, yet swayed and veered.

18- ﺃَﺃَﺴﻤﺎﺀ ﺃَﻤﺴﻰ ﻭﺩﻫﺎ ﻗﺩ ﺘﹶﻐﹶﻴـﺭﺍ ﺴﻨﹸﺒﺩِل ﺇﻥ ﺃ ﺒ ﺩ ﻟﹾ ﺕِ ﺒﺎﻟﻭﺩ ﺁﺨﹶﺭﺍ 18- Asmaa`! should you my love for oth’r exchange, I shall, also, to other conquests range.

19- ﺘﹶ ﺫﹶ ﻜﱠ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺃﻫﻠﻲ ﺍﻟﺼﺎﻟِﺤﻴﻥ ﻭﻗﺩ ﺃ ﺘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺨﹶﻤﻠﻰ ﺨﹸ ﻭ ﺹ ﺍﻟﺭﻜﺎﺏِ ﻭﺃﻭﺠﺭﺍ 19- “Khamla” and “Awjar”, having left behind, mem`ries of their good folk e’er bore in mind.88

20-ﻓﻠﻤﺎ ﺒ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﺤ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻵ لِ ﺩﻭﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹶ ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻡ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻅ ﺭ ﺒﻌﻴﻨﻴﻙ ﻤﻨﹾﻅﺭﺍ

86 “Ban” and “Rend” species of tree emitting fragrance. “`Alwi”, a brand of incense, considered the finest. “Lubna”: a species of tree whose milky sap was used in perfume-making. The verse also includes “Kibaa`”, a brand of incense. 87 The fine women in howdahs had chosen ones to love, mortgaging out their hearts to those they had favoured. He had mortgaged his heart to Sulayma, who broke away from him, taking away with her his mortgaged heart. 88 Khanla” and “Awjar”- locations in Syria.

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20- And when “Hawran” at last I left behind89, none like “Asmaa`s” loveliness could I find.

21- ﺘﹶ ﻘﹶ ﻁﹼ ﻊ ﺃ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻠﱡﺒﺎﻨﹶﺔِ ﻭﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻋ ﺸ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﺠﺎﻭﺯﻨﹶﺎ ﺤ ﻤ ﺎ ﺓﹶ ﻭﺸﹶﻴﺯﺭﺍ 21- And when “Hamat” and “Shayzar” I had crossed all hopes of seeing th’beloved again, were lost

22- ﺒِ ﺴ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻴ ﻀِ ﺞ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻴ ﻤ ﻨﱡ ﻪ ﺃﺨﹸﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻬ ﺩِ ﻻ ﻴﻠﹾﻭﻯ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤ ﻥ ﺘﹶﻌﺫﱠﺭﺍ 22- Our way forward we in haste had trod. Those straggling, should their own way onward, plod.

23- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴﻨﹾﺴِﻨﻲ ﻤﺎ ﻗ ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﻘِ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻅﹶﻌﺎﺌِﻨﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﻼﹰ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻜﺎﻟﻘﹶﺭ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻤﺨﹶﺩﺭﺍ 23- Forget I not, `spite travels hardest toil, round howdahs that velvet cushions encoil.

24- ﻜ ﺄَ ﺜﹾ لٍ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻷﻋﺭﺍﺽ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺩﻭﻥ ﺒ ﻴ ﺸﹶ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﻥِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹸ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻋ ﺎ ﻤِ ﺩ ﺍ ﺕٍ ﻟِﻐﹶﻀﻭﺭﺍ 24- The tall, well-laden howdahs, richly green. Like trees that are at wat`ry valleys seen.90

25- ﻓﹶ ﺩ ﻉ ﺫﺍ ﻭ ﺴ لﱢ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻡ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﺒِ ﺤ ﺴ ـ ـْ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺫﹶ ﻤ ﻭ لٍ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺼ ﺎ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻬ ـ ﺎ ﺭ ﻭ ﻫ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ 25- Forget howdahs! And do yourself console. With swift camels that `cross hot desert roll.

26- ﺘﹸ ﻘﹶ ﻁﱢ ﻊ ﻏِ ﻴ ﻁ ﺎ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻜ ﺄَ ﻥ ﻤﺜﹸﻭﻨﹶﻬــــﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃ ﻅ ﻬ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺘﹸﻜﹾﺴﻰ ﻤ ﻼ ﺀ ﻤﻨﹶﺸﱢـــــﺭﺍ 26- High ground and rocks it can with ease go `cross. Mirage enshrouds it with a whitish gloss.

27- ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺩ ﺓﹸ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻜِ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬـــــﺎ ﺘﺭﻯ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻤﺠﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﻔ ﺭِ ﻫِ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻤﺸﹶﺠﺭﺍ 27- Great power moves its withers, stout and wide. As if a scratching cat t`its flank was tied91.

89 “Hawran”- the same modern “Hawran” province in Syria. 90 The verse mentions “Bisha”,”Ghameer” and “Ghudoor” as well-watered locations. The trees there are of the “Athel” species, tall and verdant, growing profusely in the watery sites. The green howdahs are likened to “Athel”trees.

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28- ﺘﹸﻁﹶﺎﻴِﺭ ﻅﹸ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺤﺼﻰ ﺒ ﻤ ﻨ ﺎ ﺴِ ﻡٍ ﺼِ ﻼ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻌﺠﻰ ﻤﻠﺜﻭﻤﻬﺎ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺃﻤﻌﺭﺍ 28- From its hard pads, sharp pebbles fly away at its taut flanks, but don’t its firm hide fray.

29- ﻜ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺤﺼﻰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶﻠﹾﻔِﻬﺎ ﻭﺃﻤﺎﻤِﻬﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﻠﹶ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﺭِ ﺠﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺤ ﺫﹾ ﻑﹸ ﺃﻋﺴﺭﺍ 29- The shooting pebbles in all directions hiss. As left-handed misaimed shots, widely miss.

30- ﻜ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺼﻠﻴلَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭِ ﺤِ ﻴ ﻥ ﺘ ﻁِ ﻴ ﺭ ﻩ ﺼﻠﻴلُ ﺯ ﻴ ﻭ ﻑٍ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻥ ﺒِﻌﺒﻘﹶﺭﺍ 30- The pebble-fall rings loudly from afar. As copper coins, debased, fall at “Abqar”92.

31- ﻋﻠﹶﻴﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘ ﻰ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹶﺤﻤِل ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽ ﻤِﺜﹾﻠﹶﻪ ﺃ ﺒ ﺭ ﺒﻤﻴﺜﺎﻕٍ ﻭﺃﻭﻓﹶﻰ ﻭﺃﺼﺒﺭﺍ 31- `Pon it mounts one whose peers earth never bore. To vows enfaithed, to patience true e’er more.93

32- ﻫﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺯِ لُ ﺍ ﻷ ﻻ ﻑِ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻭ ﻨ ﺎ ﻋِ ﻁٍ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺃ ﺴ ﺩٍ ﺤ ﺯ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺃﻭﻋﺭﺍ 32- He, from “Na`it’s” fort thousands down have brought. “Beni Assad” high’r ground had better sought.94

33- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺸ ﺎ ﺀ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﺯ ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺤ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻭﻟﻜﻨﹼﻪ ﻋ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻡِ ﺃﻨﹾﻔﹶﺭﺍ 33- Beni Assad he’d raid from “Himyar”`s land But Roman pact will much more honour stand.95

34- ﺒﻜﻰ ﺼﺎﺤِﺒﻲ ﻟﻤﺎ ﺭﺃﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺭ ﺏ ﺩﻭﻨﹶﻪ ﻭﺃﻴﻘﹶﻥ ﺍﻨﱠﺎ ﻻ ﺤ ﻘ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺒِﻘﹶﻴﺼـــــﺭﺍ

91 Cats were completely unknown to desert Camels who would have been terrified if such a creature was tied to its flanks, and thus would run on with crazed and terrified speed. 92 “Abqar”: a location in Yemen notorious for its debased coinage, heavy in copper content. The loud fall of pebbles flying off from the swift camel’s hard pads is likened to the loud coppery sound of debased coinage falling on hard ground. 93 “One” refers to himself. He recounts what he considers his prime virtues to be. 94 “Nacit”’s fort: A fort in Hamadan, in Persia. His bringing down thousands from this mountain fort to lower ground is obscure. He is challenging his enemies, the Beni Assad, to leave hard, level ground and entrench themselves higher up in mountain fastness. He, refers to himself. 95 He is exculpating himself from not raiding the Beni Assad from his ancestral lands of Himyar, in the Yemen where he could have rallied his people there to his aid . He says that his appeal to the Roman Caesar, (Justinian) for aid against his foes will stand him in much more honour, and would be far more effective.

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34- My friend, seeing the road that lay ahead led to Caesar, hot tears of dread did shed96.

35- ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻙِ ﻋ ﻴ ﻨﹸ ﻙ ﺇِﻨﹼﻤــﺎ ﻨﹸ ﺤ ﺎ ﻭِ لُ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻜ ﺎﹰ ﺃﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻤ ﻭ ﺕﹶ ﻓﹶﻨﹸﻌﺫﺭﺍ 35- Said I “weep not. To win a realm we’ll try Or be forgiven should we fail and die.

36- ﻭﺇِﻨﹼﻲ ﺯ ﻋ ﻴ ﻡ ﺇ ﻥ ﺭ ﺠ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻤﻠﱠﻜﺎﹰ ﺒِ ﺴ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﺘﺭﻯ ﻤﻨﻪ ﺍﻟﻔﹸﺭﺍﻨِﻕﹶ ﺃﺯﻭﺭﺍ 36- I’m sure to win a kingdom, `n royal fame through hard travel’s that would th’strongest lions lame.

37- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻻ ﺤِ ﺏٍ ﻻ ﻴﻬﺘﹶﺩﻯ ﺒ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺴ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺒﺎﻁِﻲ ﺠ ﺭ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ 37- O’er th’longest, hardest, deep-pocked way that makes a “Nabt” camel in protest bray.97

38- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻜ لّ ﻤ ﻘ ﺼ ﻭ ﺹِ ﺍﻟﺫﱡﻨﺎﺒﻲ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎ ﻭِ ﺩٍ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺴﺭﻯ ﺒﺎﻟﻠﱠﻴل ﻤﻥ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لِ ﺒﺭﺒﺭﺍ 38- Mounting tail-less dispatch steeds through the night, So like Berber horses, sleekish and light.98

39- ﺃَ ﻗﹶ ﺏ ﻜ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻀــــــــــﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻋ ﻁ ﺎ ﻓِ ﻪِ ﻗﺩ ﺘﹶﺤﺩﺭﺍ 39- As lean as rain-drenched tree-wolf racing dank99. You’d see the water dripping down its flank.

40- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺯ ﻋ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺒ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻜِﻠﹶﻴﻬِﻤـﺎ ﻤﺸﻰ ﺍﻟﻬﻴﺩﺒﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺩ ﻓﱢ ﻪِ ﺜﻡ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺍ 40- You spur its flank, and rein it; t’will turn gay. It’ll swagger on, and with its bit will play.

41- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗ ـُ ﻠ ـْ ﺕﹸ ﺭﻭﺤﻨﺎ ﺃ ﺭ ﻥ ﻓﹸ ﺭ ﺍ ﻨِ ﻕﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺠ ﻠﹾ ﻌ ﺩٍ ﻭﺍﻫِﻲ ﺍﻷﺒﺎﺠِل ﺃﺒﺘﹶﺭﺍ

96 The friend is cAmr bin Qumaiy’a `al-Yashkuri. The poet had passed through the Beni Yashkur clan on his way to Constantinople. He chose cAmr, a fellow poet, as his traveling companion, but did not tell him of his destination. The ‘road’ here is that connecting the Syrian port city of Tarsus c to Byzantium. Amr wept in bewildered anguish when he realized where they were heading. 97 Nabt: The toughest, most enduring of camels. 98 Tail-less Berber horses were used by dispatch riders to deliver mail. 99 Tree-wolves, living amongst trees, were considered to be most cunning and vicious.

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41- Say “comfort us”, when th`way grows hard; it`ll neigh. Supple its veins`n joints, short its tail doth lay.

42- ﻟﻘﺩ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺘﹾ ﻨ ﻲ ﺒ ﻌ ﻠﹶ ﺒ ﻙ ﻭﺃَﻫﻠﹸﻬـﺎ ﻭﻻﺒﻥ ﺠﺭﻴﺞ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹸﺭﻯ ﺤِ ﻤ ﺹ ﺃﻨﹾﻜﹶﺭﺍ 42- Baalbeck, its folk, denied me; were untrue. And “Ibn Juraij” at Hims’s vill`ges, too.100

43- ﻨﹶ ﺸ ﻴ ﻡ ﺒ ﺭ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺯ ﻥِ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤ ﺼ ﺎ ﺒ ﻪ ﻭﻻ ﺸ ﻲ ﺀ ﻴﺸﹾﻔِﻲ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﻴﺎ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹶَ ﻋ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﺯ ﺍ 43- I see that showers distant lands may drench. No rain would love for “Afraz’s”`s daught’r quench.101

44- ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﺼِﺭﺍﺕِ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﺭﻑِ ﻟﻭ ﺩ ﺏ ﻤ ﺤ ﻭِ لٌ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱠ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻹ ﺜﹾ ﺏِ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﻷﺜﱠﺭﺍ 44- Should air-blown specks on her light gown alight. her delightful soft-smooth skin so would slight.

45- ﻟﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻴ لُ ﺇﻥ ﺃﻤﺴﻰ ﻭﻻ ﺃُ ﻡ ﻫ ﺎ ﺸِ ﻡٍ ﻗ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ ﻭﻻ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎ ﺸ ﺔﹸ ﺃﺒﻨﺔﹸ ﻴﺸﻜﹸﺭﺍ 45- Woe to nights with “Umm Hashim” nowhere near. Nor with “Bisbasa”, “Yashkur’s” daughter dear.

46- ﺃﺭﻯ ﺃ ﻡ ﻋﻤﺭٍﻭ ﺩﻤﻌﻬﺎ ﻗﺩ ﺘﹶﺤﺩﺭﺍ ﺒ ﻜ ﺎ ﺀ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭٍ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻜﺎﻥ ﺃﺼﺒﺭﺍ 46- I see “`Umm `Amr,” her tears with grief aflow for cAmr; yet once with patience was aglow.102

47- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻥ ﺴِﺭﻨﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺱ ﻋ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻭﺭﺍﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤِ ﺴ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻤﻥ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻊِ ﻗﹶﻴﺼﺭﺍ 47- For fifteen nights we crossed o’er wetland sands. Across what Caesar built t`defend his lands.

48- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺏ ﻗﺩ ﺭﻀﻴﺘﹸﻪ ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺒ ﺩ ﻟ ﺕﹸ ﺁﺨﹶﺭﺍ 48- If th’companion I thought of suit’ble kind

100 Baalbeck: a town in Syria (now in the Lebanon) between and Hims (Emessa). Ibn Juraij, a former friend of the poet, residing in a village near Hims, had also denied him. 101 `Afraz`s daughter: A woman whom Imru’ul Qays had loved. 102 “`Umm cAmr”: mother of cAmr b. Qumaia, Imru’ul Qays’s travelling companion. The mother, once so patient, had broken into tears at her son’s accompanying the poet to Constantinople.

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unsuit’ble turns, I must another find.

49- ﻜ ﺫﹶ ﻟِ ﻙ ﺠﺩﻱ، ﻤﺎ ﺃُ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺏ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺒ ﺎﹶ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﹼﺎﺱ ﺇﻻ ﺨﺎﻨﹶﻨﻲ ﻭﺘﹶﻐﹶﻴﺭﺍ 49- E’er when a sincere friend in one I see. Fickle and treach’rous he turns out to be.

50- ﻭﻜﻨﹼﺎ ﺃُ ﻨ ﺎ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﻏﹶ ﺯ ﻭ ﺓِ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﻤ لٍ ﻭﺭِﺜﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﺍﻟﻐِﻨﹶﻰ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﺩ ﺃ ﻜﹾ ﺒ ﺭ ﺃﻜﺒﺭﺍ 50- Well before “Qarmal”`s raid well-born were we. Inher`ting th’great glory’f our ancestral tree.

51- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺠ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺨﹶﻴﻠﻲ ﻭﻟﻜﻥ ﺘ ﺫ ﻜﱠ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻤﺭﺍﺒِﻁﹶﻬﺎ ﻤِﻥ ﺒ ﺭ ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺹ ﻭﻤﻴﺴﺭﺍ 51- My horsemen did not through cowardice fail But had recalled “Barba`ees” and “Maysar’s” vale103

52- ﺃﻻ ﺭ ﺏ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﺼ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺢٍ ﻗﺩ ﺸﹶ ﻬِ ﺩ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺒ ﻨ ﺎ ﺫِ ﻑﹶ ﺫﺍﺕ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﱠ لﱢ ﻤﻥ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕِ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﺍ 52- O for that good war-day which I did face. That at “Tadhif`” hill, oer “Tartar”, took place.104

53- ﻭﻻ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لَ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹸ ﺫ ﺍ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥ ﻅِ ﻠﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻜﹶﺄَﻨﹼﻲ ﻭﺃَﺼﺤﺎﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻗـَﺭﻥ ِ ﺃﻋﻔﹶﺭﺍ 53- No day was like the one at “Qatharan” we won, ‘t was as if oryx horns we were upon.105

54- ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺏ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺴِ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لَ ﺤﻭﻟﻨﺎ ﻨِﻘـــَ ﺎ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺤﺘــﻰ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﺴِ ـ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﺃﺸﹾﻘﹶﺭﺍ 54- We drink till steeds to our drunken eyes look like lambs. Black manes for fair we drunk’ly took.

55- ﻓﹶ ﻬ لْ ﺃﻨﺎ ﻤ ﺎ ﺵٍ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﻁٍ ﻭ ﺤ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻭﻫل ﺃﻨﺎ ﻻﻕ ٍ ﺤ ﻲ ﻗﻴﺱ ِ ﺒﻥ ِ ﺸﹶﻤﺭﺍ

103 “Qarmal”, a king of Yemen, haid raided Imru’ul Qays’s tribe in their original Yemen homelands and defeated them. The poet here extenuates this defeat by saying that his folk were not defeated through weakness or cowardice, but yearned for their emmigrating kinsmen, and had disengaged from Qarmals` host to catch up with their kith and kin who had settled in two valleys “Barba`ees”. And “Maysar”. 104 He is nostalgically recalling battles he had won to make up for his tribes earlier defeat by “Qarmal”. 105 This victory at “Qatharan” was all the more splendid, since, after initial caution and hesitation, the day, at the very last moment, tilted in their favour, as if they were balanced on oryx horns.

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55- Am I to walk, midst direst dangers, doomed? Have “Qays bin Shammars` homes e’en closer loomed?106

56- ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﺨﹶﻠﻴﻠﻰ ﻫل ﺘﺭﻯ ﻀ ﻭ ﺀ ﺒﺎﺭ ِﻕ ٍ ﻴﻀﻲﺀ ﺍﻻﱡﺠﻰ ﺒﺎﻟﻠﱠﻴلِ ﻋﻥ ﺴـِﺭﻭ ِ ﺤِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ 56- See you, my friend, at night, a flashing light? That lights, from high, the land of Himyar bright?

57- ﺃ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﻗﹸﺴﻴﺴﺎﹰ ﻓﺎﻟﻁـُﻬﺎﺀ ﻓﹶﻤِﺴﻁـَﺤﺎ ﻭ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍﹰ ﻓﹶﺭﻭﻯ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ لَ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒﻥ ﺸﹶﻤﺭﺍ 57- So near to sev’ral oth’r places, it bathes “bin Shammar’s” palms with glorious light ablaze.107

58- ﻭ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭ ﺒ ﻥ ﺩ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻏﹶﺩﺍ ﺒﺫِﻱ ﺸﹶ ﻁﹶ ﺏٍ ﻋ ﺼ ﺏٍ ﻜﹶﻤﺸﻴﺔ ﻗﹶ ﺴ ﻭﺭﺍ 58- And “cAmr b. Darmaa”, of fluted sword, who walks as sure-foot’d lion in fearsome steps bestalks.

59- ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺨِ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻅ ﻼ ﻤ ﺔﹰ ﻓ ﺈِ ﻥ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺸِ ﻌ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒِﺒﻠﹾﻁﹶــﺔﹶ ﺭﻴﻤــﺭﺍ 59- If I, one day, injustice gross should fear. The trail to “Bulta”, at “Zaymor”, is near.108

60- ﻨِ ﻴ ﺎ ﻓ ﺎﹰ ﺘﹶ ﺯِ لﱡ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻴﺭ ﻋ ﻥ ﻗﹶ ﺫﹶ ﻓ ﺎ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻴ ﻁﹶ لّ ﺍﻟﻀﺒﺎﺏ ﻓ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﻪ ﻗﺩ ﺘﹶﻌﺼﺭﺍ 60- From its sheer peaks perching birds down do slip. And thick o’er topping mists in drizzles drip.109

[19] ﻟﻌﻤﺭﻙ ﻤﺎ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃﻫﻠﻪ ﺒِ ﺤ ﺭ My heart is not on patience set

1- ﻟﻌﻤﺭﻙ ﻤﺎ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃﻫﻠﻪ ﺒِﺤــﺭ ﻭﻻ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺼِ ﺭٍ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻓﻴﺄﺘﻴﻨﻲ ﺒِ ﻘﹸ ﺭْ

106 He wonders if he will ever reach the dwellings of one “Qays bin Shammar”, an unidentified person he is seeking for unknown reasons. 107 The “Sev’ral oth’r places” are identified in this line as “Qassis”, “Tuha”, “Mistah”, and “Jaww”. Bin Shammar here is the aforementioned “Qays bin Shammar”, who probably offered the poet lavish hospitality for which he is here grateful. 108 A mountain trail leads to “Balta” the house of cAmr b. Darmaa on “Zaymar”, a mountain in the Tayy tribal home lands. 109 Describing the mountain of Zaymar,

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1- By life! My heart is not on patience set. No peace it holds, but is e’er set to fret.

2- ﺃﻻ ﺇﻨﹼﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺎ لٍ ﻭ ﺃ ﻋ ﺼ ﺭ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺸﹶ ﻲ ﺀٍ ﻗﹶ ﻭِ ﻴ ﻡٍ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻤِ ﺭ 2- For time is but ages and endless night. And ne’er on steady course proceeds aright.

3- ﻟ ﻴ ﺎ لٍ ﺒِ ﺫﹶ ﺍ ﺕِ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻠﹾﺢِ ﻋِﻨـْﺩ َ ﻤ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﺃ ﺤ ﺏ ﺇﻟﹶﻴﻨﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻟ ﻴ ﺎ لٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃُﻗـُـﺭ 3- Those nights! The “Talh” trees! At “Muhajjar’s Tayy”. More pleasant than those spent down “cUqur’s” way.110

4- ﺃّﻏﺎﺩﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺒ ﻭ ﺡ ﻋِ ﻨ ﺩ ﻫِ ﺭ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﻰ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﻫل ﺃﻓﹾﻨﻰ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒ ﻲ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﻫِــﺭ 4- With “Fartana” and “Hirr” morn-cups I gained. Who else but “Hirr” my youth away had drained?111

5- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺫﹸ ﻗﹾ ﺕﹶ ﻓﹶﺎﻫﺎ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻡ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻤ ﻌ ﺘ ـﱠ ـ ﻘ ـَﺔ ٍ ﻤِﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﻲ ﺀ ﺒﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﱡ ﺠ ﺭ 5- If you should taste her mouth you straight would say tis aged wine that merchants brought your way.

6- ﻫﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﺘﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﺝِ ﺜﹶﺒﺎﻟﹶﺔٍ ﻟﹶﺩﻯ ﺠﺅﺫﺭﻴﻥ ﺍﻭ ﻜﺒﻌﺽ ﻫ ﻜِ ﺭ 6- Loving, as ewes for their young do care Pretty, as pictures displayed at “Hakir” fair.112

7- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﺎﻤﺘﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻀ ﻭ ﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬﻤﺎ ﻨِﺴﻴﻡ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﺠﺎﺀﺕ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻔـُﻁـُﺭ 7- When passing by, musk from them wafts away. Like incense born by breeze at morn of day.113

8- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﱢ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺃﺼﻌﺩﻭﺍ ﺒِﺴﺒﻴﺌَﺔٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺹ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃﻨﺯﻟﻭﻫﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ 8- As if wine merchants perfumed wines had sent. Their wafting jars from “Khass” to “Yusur” went.114

110 c Muhajjar: a location in the Tayy tribal homelands. Uqur: an unidentified location. 111 “Fartana and Hirr” were two women he had known. Morning drinking with “Hirr” had aged him prematurely. 112 “Furtana” and “Hirr” are as tender, loving and caring as oryx ewes to their young at “Tibala”; a location where oryx congregate in large numbers. 113 “Them” refers to both “Hirr” and “Fartana”.

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9- ﻓﻠﻤﺎ ﺍﺴﺘﹶﻁﺎﺒﻭﺍ ﺼ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺼﺤﻥ ﻨ ﺼ ﻔﹸ ﻪ ﻭ ﺸﹸ ﺠ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻁﹶﺭﻕ ٍ ﻭﻻ ﻜﹶ ﺩِ ﺭ 9- A cup, half-filled with clear water pure. In it the potent perfumed drink they pour.

10- ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺏٍ ﺯ لّ ﻋ ﻥ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻥِ ﺼ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺒﻁﻥ ﺃﺨﹾﺭﻯ ﻁﻴﺏ ﻤﺎﺅﻫﺎ ﺨﹶ ﺼِ ﺭ 10- Rain water from wide boulders downward flows. And into cold-clean mountain streamlets goes.

11- ﻟﹶﻌﻤﺭﻙ ﻤﺎ ﺇﻥ ﻀﺭﻨﻲ ﻭِ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﺤِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻭﺃﻗﻭﺍﻟِﻬﺎ ﺇﻻ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺨ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹸ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻜﹾ ﺭ 11- What harmed me most with Himyar, and its kings was th’harm that pride, and drink, and boasting, brings.

12- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍﻟﻤﺴﺘﹶﺒﻴﻥ ِ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﻲ ﺃ ﺠ ﺭ ﻟﺴﺎﻨﻲ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺫ ﻟِ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻤ ﺠِ ﺭ 12- Them I offended, with my long, wagging tongue. I wish I had it drawn, quartered, and hung.

13- ﻟﹶ ﻌ ﻤ ﺭ ﻙ ﻤﺎ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﺒِ ﺨﹸ ﻠﹼ ﺔِ ﺁﺜِﻡ ٍ ﻭﻻ ﻨﺄﻨﺄ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺤِﻔﺎﻅِ ﻭﻻ ﺤ ﺼِ ﺭ 13- In truth, ne’er have the “Sacad their friends betrayed. Nor weak in battle were, nor were dismayed.115

14- ﻟﹶﻌﻤﺭﻱ ﻟﹶ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﻗﺩ ﻨﹶ ﺭﻯ ﺃ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻓ ﻴ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺒِ ﻁﹶ ﻟ ﻸ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻜﹶ ﺭِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺜِ ﺭ 14- Of camels they own some ten and three-score. Their wealth in horse and foal counts even more.

15- ﺃ ﺤ ﺏ ﺇﻟﻴﻨﹶﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺃُ ﻨ ﺎ ﺱٍ ﺒِ ﻘ ـُ ﻨ ـﱠ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺁﺜﹶﺎﺭ ِ ﺸ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻬ ـِ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨ ﻤ ﺭ 15- To us they’re dearer than those weaklings meek. Who with their sheep, up peaks, protection seek.

16- ﻴﻔﹶﺎﻜِﻬﻨﹶﺎ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﻭﻴﻐﺩﻭ ﻟِ ﺠ ﻤ ﻌِ ﻨ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺜﹾ ﻨ ﻰ ﺍﻟﺯﻗﺎﻕ ِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﻋ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠ ﺯ ﺭ 16- Fine boon companions and soci’ble, “Sacad” make. Their roasts plenty; their wine flows free to take.

114 “Khass” and “Yusur” two locations in Syria known for making and selling of perfumed Syrian wines. 115 c The “Sa ad” are the Beni Sa’ad, the Poet’s allies.

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17- ﻟـَﻌﻤﺭﻱ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﺤﻴﺙ ﺤﻠﹼﺕ ﺩِﻴﺎﺭﻩ ﺃ ﺤ ﺏ ﺇﻟﻴﻨﺎ ﻤِ ﻨ ﻙ ﻓﺎﻓﹶﺭﺱ ٍ ﺤ ﻤِ ﺭ 17- In truth let Sa’ad, whether he stay or stir. A foul-breathed horse to him we do prefer.116

18- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺭِ ﻑﹸ ﻓِﻴﻪ ﻤﻥ ﺃﺒﻴﻪِ ﺸﹶﻤﺎﺌﻼ ً ﻭﻤﻥ ﺨﺎﻟِﻪ ﻭﻤِﻥ ﻴ ﺯ ﻴ ﺩ ﻭﻤِﻥ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭ 18- And yet, fine traits, from him may soon be known; traits that father, uncle, and Hujr have shown.117

19- ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺤ ﺔﹶ ﺫﺍ ﻭ ﺒِ ﺭ ﻭﻭﻓﺎﺀ ﺫﺍ ﻭﻨﺎﺌل ﺫﺍ، ﺇﺫﺍ ﺼﺤﺎ ﻭﺇﺫﺍ ﺴ ﻜِ ﺭ 19- Such traits as forbearance, loy’lty, order. All clearly seen when drunk or when sober.

[20] ﺭ ﺏ ﺭﺍﻡ ﻤﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺜﹸﻌل “the archer from Beni Thucal”

As Imru’ul Qays was on his way to al-Samaw`al, the Jewish poet, he came across the carcass of an oryx recently shot, and his companions dismounted to claim it. Two hunters of the Beni Thucal appeared and asked who they were. Imru’ul Qays’s party replied that they were related to them by blood. As the hunters were neighbours of ‘al-Samaw’al, they all rode together and headed for the Jewish poet. Imru’ul Qays recited:

ﺭ ﺏ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡٍ ﻤ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺜﹸ ﻌ لٍ ﻤ ﺜﹾ ﻠِ ﺞٍ ﻜ ـَ ﻔ ـﱠ ـ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹸ ﺘﹶ ﺭِ ﻩ 1- Beni Thucal hunter, stalking his pray. In his hunters’ hide-out well-hid he lay.

2- ﻋﺎﺭِﺽ ٍ ﺯ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻨﹶﺸﹶﻡ ٍ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺓٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻭﺘﹶﺭﻩ 2- Straight-backed, he aims and draws his “Nashmite” bow

116 Whereas the previous Sacad refers to the Beni Sacad clan, the poet’s friends and supporters, the Sacad here is his nephew. Imru’ul Qays’s father, Hujr, had married Sacad’s mother, but divorced her. Dhabab, the poet’s brother then married her. Sacad was born to Dhabab, and was thus the poet’s nephew, who is lampooned here for his foul-breath. The verse here compares him with a horse overfed on barley which gives him bad breath. 117 “father” refers to Sacad’s father, Dhabab. “Uncle” refers to the poet himself as Sacad’s uncle. Hujr, the poet’s father, is Sacad’s grandfather. The verse also mentions “Yazeed”, who could not be identified.

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Unbending o’er bow-string to free th’arrow.118

3- ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﺘﹶ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵﹸ ﻭﺍﺭِﺩﺓ ً ﻓﹶﺘﹶﻨﹶﺤﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺯ ﻉ ﻓﻲ ﻴﺴﺭِﻩ 3- Heading for th’drink, oryx towards him race. His bow in alignment to brow and face.

4-ﻓﹶﺭﻤﺎﻫﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻓﺭﺍﺌِﺼﻬﺎ ﺒﺈﺯﺍﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻭ ﺽِ ﺃ ﻭ ﻋ ﻘﹶ ﺭِ ﻩ 4- At its shoulders, lets off a shot; clean’n fine, as th’oryx bends to drink at th’water-line.

5- ﺒِ ﺭ ﻫِ ﻴ ﺵٍ ﻤِﻥ ﻜِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶﺘﹶﻠﹶﻅﹼﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻓﻲ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺭِ ﻩ 5- His quiver well-filled, the sleekest arrows shows. His arrow-head in flight like ember glows.

6- ﺭ ﺍ ﺸﹶ ﻪ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺵِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻫِ ﻀ ﺔٍ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺃ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﻩ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺤﺠﺭِﻩ 6- His shafts with eagle chick’s plumes were feathered . Plumage well-trimmed, and to the shaft, well-tethered.

7- ﻓﹶ ﻬ ﻭ ﻻ ﺘﹶﻨﹾﻤﻲ ﺭ ﻤ ﻴ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻻ ﻋ ﺩ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶﻔِﺭِﻩ 7- His shaft e’er reaches th’mark, has never strayed. Becursed be its e’er sharp, ne’er missing blade.119

8- ﻤ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻡ ﻟ ﻠ ﺼ ﻴ ﺩِ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻏﹶﻴﺭﻫﺎ ﻜِ ﺴ ﺏ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺭ ﻩ 8- His hunting skills, well-praised; his kills, well-laid. A vet’ran hunter with no other trade.

9- ﻭﺨﹶﻠﻴلٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﻪ ﺜﻡ ﻻ ﺃﺒﻜﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃ ﺜﹶ ﺭِ ﻩ 9- A friend who from me does abruptly part. For him I never shall shed tears of th’heart.

10- ﻭ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﻋ ﻡ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺼ ﻔﹾ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻭ ﺽِ ﻋ ﻥ ﻜﹶﺩﺭِﻩ 10- Courteous am I to offending cousin dear.

118 “Nashmite” bow: “Nashm” a tree from whose wood fine bows are made. 119 “becursed” here is in the way of grudging admiration for the hunter’s archery.

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Letting him drink first from first waters clear.

11- ﻭ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺏِ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﻫ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴِ ﺙﹲ ﻤﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻗِﺼﺭِﻩ 11- With cousin, short is th’day of clear joy’n song. But days of drinking muddied wat’r, are long.120

12- ﻭ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥ ﻋ ﻡ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻓﹸ ﺠِ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﻀ ﻭ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺩ ﺭِ ﻓﻲ ﻏﹸﺭﺭﻩ 12- Cousin! Struck down! and I to grief endoomed. Crescent! That could to fullest moon have bloomed.

[21] ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺴ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻀﺎﺌﻊ “lost lineage”

when Hujr, the poet’s father, was slain, his daughter, Hind took refuge with ‘Uwayr b. Shijna; and his Beni ‘Awf tribe, who told ‘Uwayr: “Have their wealth, for it will soon be taken by others”. He declined, offering Hind his full protection. At night, leading Hind’s camel he crossed over the dune hills with her all the way to Najran, near the Yemen border. There he said to Hind “There are your people. I have done my duty in protecting you”. cUwayr was praised by Imru’ul Qays in several poems, this being the most prominent.

1- ﺇ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻋ ﻭ ﻑٍ ﺍ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻀ ﻴ ﻌ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺩﺨﹾﻠﹸﻠﹸﻭﻥ ﺇﺫ ﻏﹶﺩﺭﻭﺍ 1- Their own lineage the Beni cAwf had built. But vile treach’ry made it wither and wilt.

2- ﺃﺩﻭﺍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻫِ ﻡ ﺨﹸ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻀِ ﻊ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤ ﻐ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻨﹶﺼﺭﻭﺍ 2- For sure they will for needy neighbour stand when absent kin give not a helping hand.

3- ﻟﻡ ﻴﻔﻌﻠﻭﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻌ لَ ﺁل ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﻅﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺇ ﻨﹼ ﻬ ﻡ ﺠ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺒ ـِ ﺌ ـْ ﺱ ﻤﺎ ﺍﺌﺘﹶﻤﺭﻭﺍ 3- They’ve not, as “Handhal”; done th’treach’rous deed. T’hand o’er refuge-seekers. Treach’ry indeed!121

120 In , generally, clear water signifies good times, and muddied water, hard ones.

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4- ﻻ ﺤِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭ ﻱ ﻭﻓـَﻰ ﻭﻻ ﻋ ﺩ ﺱ ﻭﻻ ﺃ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻴﺤﻜـﱡﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺜ ـ ﻔﹶ ـ ﺭ 4- Of “Handhal”; “Himyar”, “cAdas”, “Ast”–rogues all Bestrapped burden-beasts; low in worth and small.122

5- ﻟﹶ ﻜِ ﻥ ﻋ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭﻓﹶﻰ ﺒِ ﺫِ ﻤ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻻ ﻋ ﻭ ﺭ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻭﻻ ﻗِ ﺼ ﺭ 5- But fine cUwayr has nobly cleared his debts. No slur beslimes him, and no charge besets.

[22] ﺩ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﻫ ﻁﹾ ﻼ ﺀ “A long and heavy downpour”

‘al-Asmcai was asked “who among the poets described rainfall best? “Imru’ul Qays” he replied, and went on reciting this poem of Imru’ul Qays. 1- ﺩِ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﻫ ﻁﹾ ﻼ ﺀ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻭ ﻁﹶ ﻑﹲ ﻁﹶ ﺒ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽ ﺘﹶﺤﺭﻯ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺩِ ﺭ 1- A long, heavy downpour, its rain-lines tall. Earth-wide its range, gushing its water-fall.

2- ﺘﹸ ﺨﹾ ﺭِ ﺝ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺩ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﺠ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻜِ ﺭ 2- The tent-pole appears as the down pour recedes. But vanishes when festive rain proceeds.

121 He lauds Beni ‘Awf’s chivalry, while reviling Beni Handhal’s treachery. Beni Handhal had handed the poet’s uncle, Shurahbil to his enemy ‘Abu Hanash ‘al-Taghlibi who slaw him immediately. 122 Himyar: means Himyarite. “cAdas” and “Ast” were of the Beni Handhal whom the Poet reviles as treacherous. He reserves especial loathing for “Ast”, whom he calls a lowly beast of burden; bestrapped, and led by a strap.

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3- ﻭﺘﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺏ ﺨﻔﻴﻔﺎﹶ ﻗ ﺎ ﻫِ ﺭ ﺍﹶ ﺜﺎﻨﻴﺎﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﺜ ـُ ﻨ ـُ ﻪ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻌ ﻔِ ﺭ 3- The desert rodent shows his swimming pluck. It’s paws outstretched, so not to mud be stuck.

4- ﻭﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹼ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻓﻲ ﺭ ﻴ ﻘِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶﺭﺅﻭﺱٍ ﻗﹸ ﻁِ ﻌ ﺕﹾ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﻤ ﺭ 4- Only th’topmost of flooded trees are seen. Like sev’rd heads that, shrouded in veils, have been.

5- ﺴ ﺎ ﻋ ﺔﹰ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺍﻨﺘﹶﺤﺎﻫﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﺒِ لٌ ﺴِ ﺎ ﻗِ ﻁﹸ ﺍ ﻻ ﻜ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻑِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻩٍ ﻤ ﻨ ﻬ ﻤِ ﺭ 5- The downpour did but for a short hour last. Then, torrentials fell; hard, heavy and fast.

6- ﺭ ﺍ ﺡ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺍﻨﺘﹶﺤﻰ ﻓﻴﻪ ﺸﹸ ﺅ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ ﺠ ﻨ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹶ ﺠِ ﺭ 6- Fair winds release cloud-bursts, then recede. Fierce southern winds, t’exploding torrents, lead.

7- ﺜﹶ ﺞ ﺤﺘﻰ ﻀﺎﻕﹶ ﻋ ﻥ ﺁ ﺫِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻋ ﺭ ﺽ ﺨ ﻴ ﻡٍ ﻓ ـَ ﺨﹸ ﻔ ـَ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ 7- The pouring rain had swelled floods rising high. “Khufaa”, “Yusur” and “Khaim” submerged did lie.123

8- ﻗﺩ ﻏﺩﺍ ﻴ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻠﹸ ﻨ ﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﻔِ ﻪِ ﻻ ﺤِ ﻕﹸ ﺍﻹﻁﻠﹶﻴﻥِ ﻤ ﺤ ﺒ ﻭ ﻙ ﻤ ﻤِ ﺭ 8- Upon its nose the floods swept me away. As if, helpless, on dashing steed I lay.

[23] ﻨِ ﻌ ﻡ ﺍﻟﻔﺘـﻰ Fine Youth

Praising Tarif b. Mal’, of Tayy:

1- ﻟﹶ ﻨِ ﻌ ﻡ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﺘﻰ ﺘﹶﻌﺸﹸﻭ ﺍﻟﻰ ﻀ ﻭ ﺀِ ﻨ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻁﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻑﹸ ﺒﻥ ﻤ ل ﺀٍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻠ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﺠﻭﻉ ﻭﺍﻟﺨﹶﺼﺭ 1- Fine Youth! Weakn’d eyes the blazing fires behold of Tarif b. Mal’, on hungry nights and cold.

123 “Khufaa”, “Yusur”, Khaim”: locations overwhelmed by the floods.

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2- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺎ ﺯِ لُ ﺍﻟﻜﹶﻭﻤﺎﺀ ﺭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﺸِ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﺘـُﻼﻭﺫ ُ ﻤﻥ ﺼ ﻭ ﺕِ ﺍﻟﻤﺒِﺴﻴﻥ ﺒﺎﻟﺸﹶﺠﺭ 2- They’re like great-humped, tooth-worn camels, that stop at tallest trees for leafage green, to crop.124

[24] ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ ﻭﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ Imru’ul Qays and ‘al-Taw’am:

‘al-Asmcai relates that Imru’ul Qays was always challenging other poets. Here he challenges ‘al-Taw’am ‘al Yashkuri to a poetry contest whereby Imru’ul Qays recites the first hemistich of a line of verse, and ‘al Yashkuri completes the second. Al-Yashkuri took up the challenge.125

1- ﻗﺎل ﺍﻤﺭﻯﺀ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ: ﺃ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴ ﻘ ﺎﹰ ﻫ ﺏ ﻭ ﻫ ﻨ ﺎﹰ 1- Imru’ul Qays:See you,past nightfall,glowing,flashing light126 ﻗﺎل ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ: ﻜﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﻤ ﻭ ﺱ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻌِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ Al-Taw’am: Like furious Magian fire that blazes bright127

2- ﻗﺎل ﺍﻤﺭﻯﺀ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺃ ﺭِ ﻗﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻡ ﺃﺒﻭ ﺸﹸ ﺭﻴﺢ ٍ 2- Imru’ul Qays: He kept me, wake. Abu Shurayh had slept. ﻗﺎل ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ: ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻫﺩﺃ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ Al- Taw’am: t’is calm, I thought, but it in rage re-leapt.

124 A tooth-worn camel cannot graze on harder desert thorns comfortably. For it to find lush leafage, easily masticated, is a godsend. So it is with Tarifs’ hungry callers on cold rights. His lavish hospitality is such a godsend. 125 In this contest, Imru’ul Qays’s first hemistiches are unrhymed, whilst al-Taw’ams’ second hemistiches are all rhymed. However, I have rhymed the first with the second hemistiches in this translation. 126 Light: lightning. 127 Magian: “Majus”, pre-Islamic Persian fire-worshippers.

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3- ﻗﺎل ﺍﻤﺭﺉ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ: ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﻫ ﺯ ﻴ ﺯ ﻩ ﺒِ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ِ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺏٍ 3- Imru’ul Qays: As though its thunder from past th’unknown came. ﻗﺎل ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ: ﻋِ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻭ ﻟﹼ ﻪ ﻻﹶ ﻗﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻋِﺸﹶﺎﺭﺍ Al-Taw’am: As aborting camels wails of pain declaim.

4- ﻗﺎل ﺍﻤﺭﺉ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ: ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺃﻥ ﺩﻨﹶﺎ ﻟِﻘﹶﻔﹶﺎ ﺃ ﻀ ﺎ ﺥٍ Imru’ul Qays: as full rainclouds beyond “Adakh” oe’rpassed. ﻗﺎل ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ: ﻭ ﻫ ﺕﹾ ﺃ ﻋ ﺠ ﺎ ﺯ ﺭ ﻴ ﻘِ ﻪِ ﻓﹶﺤﺎﺭﺍ Al-Taw’am: They paused, then, th’wat’ry load released at last.

5- ﻗﺎل ﺍﻤﺭﺉ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ: ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﻙ ﺒِ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺭ ﻅﹶﺒﻴﺎﹰ Imru’ul Qays: at “Dhat al-Sirr”, no oryx left undrowed. ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺃﻡ: ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﻙ ﺒِﺠﻠﹾﻬﺘِﻬﺎ ﺤِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ Al-Taw’am: The valley’s wild-ass all bedrowned were found.

[25] ﻭﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻋﻠﻴﻙ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻅِ ﺭ “what if you should wait” Describing his steed, and a hunt.

1- ﺃ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒ ﻥ ﻋﻤﺭٍﻭ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﻲ ﺨﹶ ﻤِ ﺭ ﻭ ﻴ ﻌ ﺩ ﻭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀِ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺄ ﺘﹶ ﻤِ ﺭ 1- By love, or ailment, am I so beset. One’s beset by with what one’s obsessed.

2- ﻓﹶﻼ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻴ ﻙِ ﺍ ﺒ ﻨ ﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤِ ﺭِ ﻱ ﻻ ﻴﺩﻋﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﺃﻨﻲ ﺃ ﻓِ ﺭ 2- Amirites daughter! by your fathers’ life!128 Let not folk say that I flee free from strife.

3- ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﻡ ﺒ ﻥ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭﺃﺸﹾﻴﺎﻋﻬﺎ ﻭ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹸ ﺤﻭﻟﻲ ﺠﻤﻴﻌﺎﹰ ﺼ ﺒ ﺭ 3- Let not that charge by “Temim b. Murr” be cast. With “Kinda” all around me standing fast.

128 Amirite’s daughter: is “Hirr”, previously mentioned; daughter of Salama b. Abd. one of the women he wrote verses to in his early youth when his father banished him for his lechery. Hirr was of the Kalb tribe where the poet spent this early period of banishment.

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4- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺭﻜِﺒﻭﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لَ ﻭﺍﺴﺘﹶﻸﻤﻭﺍ ﺘ ﺤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽ ﻭﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻗ ـُ ﺭ 4- When armed, armoured and mounted, the bold at gallop would turn ground hot when its cold.

5- ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺃﻡ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻜِ ﺭ ﻭﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻅِ ﺭ 5- Why leave th’homeland so early or so late? What would ail you should you stand by, and wait.?

6- ﺃ ﻤ ﺭ ﺥﹲ ﺨﻴﺎﻤﻬﻡ ﺃﻡ ﻋ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺃ ﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻠ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺇ ﺜ ﺭ ﻫ ﻡ ﻤ ﻨ ﺤ ﺩِ ﺭ 6- Where e’r they go, `f what tree their tent-poles be. The yearning heart shall track them with its plea.

7- ﻭ ﻓ ﻴ ﻤ ﻥ ﺃ ﻗ ﺎ ﻡ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻫِ ﺭ ﺃﻡ ﺍﻟﻅﹼﺎﻋﻨﹸﻭﻥ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱡ ﻁﹸ ﺭ 7- Is “Hirr” among those who in th’homeland stay? Or, in howdah, to strange lands far away?

8- ﻭ ﻫِ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﻴ ﺩ ﻗ ﻠ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺠ ﺎ لِ ﻭ ﺃ ﻓﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹶ ﻤﻨﻬﺎ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥ ﻋﻤﺭﻭ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭ 8- So bent is “Hirr” on snaring manly hearts But “Hujr” bin ‘Amr from th’snares in safety parts.129

9- ﺭ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻨ ﻲ ﺒ ﺴ ﻬ ﻡٍ ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻔﺅﺍﺩ ﻏﺩﺍﺓ ﺍﻟﺭﺤﻴلِ ﻓﻠﻡ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺼِ ﺭ 9- Her eye-shafts pierced my loving heart; so I, On departure day, vanquished I did lie.

10- ﻓ ﺄ ﺴ ﺒ لَ ﺩﻤﻌِﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺽ ﺍﻟﺠﻤﺎﻥ ِ ﺍﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺭ ﺭ ﻗﹾ ﺭ ﺍ ﻗِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺤ ﺩِ ﺭ 10- My precious tears, as unstrung pearls, flowed free. As gems that’re bought and sold; as th’case may be.

11- ﻭ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻫﻲ ﺘﹶﻤﺸﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﻲِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺯ ﻴ ﻑِ ﻴ ﺼ ﺭ ﻋ ﻪ ﺒﺎﻟﻜﹶﺜﻴﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻬ ﺭ 11- Like one with wine who’s full, in walk, she sways o’er th’dunes; enfeebled and slow, in languid daze.

129 His father, Hujr, by banishing him to her tribe, had escaped Hirr’s snares, whilst he, the one banished, was caught by her.

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12- ﺒِﺭﻫﺭﻫﺔ ٌ ﺭ ﻭ ﺩ ﻩ ﺭ ﺨﹾ ﺼ ﺔﹲ ﻜﹶﺨﹸﺭﻋﻭﺒﺔ ﺃ ﻟ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹶ ﻁِ ﺭ 12- Soft skin, fine manners and form, to her all cling. A tender branch that splits to leaf in spring.

13- ﻗ ـَ ﺘ ـُ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻘِﻴﺎﻡ ِ ﻗﹶ ﻁ ﻴ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜ ـَﻼﻡ ِ ﺘ ـَ ﻔ ـْ ـ ﺘ ـَ ﺭ ﻋ ﻥ ﺫﻱ ﻏﹸ ﺭ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﺨﹶ ﺼِ ﺭ 13- She rises slowly, speaks short words and few. Her brightsome, well-formed teeth, when smiling, shew.

14- ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻡ ﻭ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻤﺎﻡ ِ ﻭ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﺍﻟﺨﹸﺯﺍﻤﻰ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﻁﹸ ﺭ 14- Fine wine, a show’ring cloud, flowr’s fragrance free; Incense awaft; all those in one is she.

15- ﻴ ﻌ لﱡ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩ ﺃ ﻨ ﻴ ﺎ ﺒِ ـِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺍﺫﺍ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻁﺎﺌِﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺤِ ﺭ 15- Her teeth so bright, though oft of wine partakes. While ears are pleased when night-time cock awakes.

16- ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﺙﱡ ﺃُﻜﺎﺒِﺩ ﻟﹶﻴـل ﺍﻟﺘﱢﻤﺎﻡ ِ ﻭﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﻤﻥ ﺨِ ﺸﹾ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻌ ﺭ 16- In longest winter nights, sleepless I lay In abject fear of what may come my way.

17- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﺘﹶﺴﺩﻴﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻓﺜﻭﺒﺎﹰ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻭﺜﻭﺒﺎﹰ ﺃ ﺠ ﺭ 17- When I moved close, upon her I did lay. A robe forgott’n, I dragged anoth’r my way130

18- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺭ ﻨ ﺎ ﻜﺎﻟﺊٌ ﻜ ﺎ ﺸ ﺢ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻔﹾ ﺵﹸ ﻤِﻨﹼﺎ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺍﻟﺒﻴﺕ ﺴِ ﺭْ 18- None did upon our privacy peep. We both our secret did from our houses keep.

19- ﻭ ﻗﹾ ﺩ ﺭﺍﺒﻨﻲ ﻗﻭﻟـُﻬﺎ: ﻴﺎ ﻫ ﻨ ﺎ ﻩ ﻭ ﻴ ﺤ ﻙ ﺃ ﻟﹾ ﺤ ﻘﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺸﹶﺭﺍ ﺒ ـِ ﺸﹶ ﺭ 19- “Of our affair” she said “we’ve been accused; your evil’s follow’d by anoth’r by what’s ensued”.

20- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃَ ﻏﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﻱ ﻭ ﻤ ﻌ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺼ ﺎ ﻥ ِ ﻭ ﻜﹸ لﱞ ﺒ ﻤ ﺭ ﺒ ﺄ ﺓٍ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻔِ ﺭ

130 He drags another robe behind him to wipe away the traces of the love scene from the ground.

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20- By morn, I with two hunters, out for th’day upon hillocks to scan the tracks of prey.

21- ﻓﹶﻴﺩﺭِﻜﹸﻨﹶﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻐِ ﻡ ﺩ ﺍ ﺠِ ﻥ ﺴ ﻤ ﻴ ﻊ ﺒ ﺼ ﻴ ﺭ ﻁ ﻠ ﻭ ﺏ ﻨﹶ ﻜِ ﺭ 21- An ugly hound follows, to hunt e’er keen; sharp eyed, sharp eared, relentless, hard and lean.

22- ﺃ ﻟﹶ ﺹ ﺍﻟﻀﺭﻭﺱ ﺤ ﻨِ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﻉِ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﻉ ﻁ ﻠ ﻭ ﺏ ﻨﹶ ﺸ ﻴ ﻁﹲ ﺃ ﺸِ ﺭ 22- It’s fangs close-packed, its ribs well-curved and wrought, Empow’red, vig’rous; its prey is hotly sought.

23- ﻓ ﺄ ﻨ ﺸﹶ ﺏ ﺃﻅﻔﺎﺭﻩ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺴﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻫ ﺒِ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺃ ﻻﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺼِ ﺭ 23- His fangs went deep in th’oryx bull’s thigh vein. Said I t’myself “close in and have it slain”.

24- ﻓﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺭً ﺇ ﻟ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺒِ ﻤِ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺨ لﱠ ﻅ ﻬ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﱢﺴِﺎﻥِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠِ ﺭْ 24- The hound, impaled by th’bull’s long horn and keen Like sucking calf’s tongue split for it to wean.131

25- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻴ ﺭ ﻨﱢ ﺢ ﻓﻲ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﻁﹶ لٍ ﻜﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺤِﻤﺎﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻌِ ﺭ 25- Th’stricken hound, in agony, reeled and surged. Like flies that in ass’s nostrils emerged.

26- ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﻜ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻉِ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻔ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻜﹶﺴﺎ ﻭﺠﻬﻬﺎ ﺴ ﻌ ﻑﹲ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺸِ ﺭ 26- My lightest, swiftest mare that fright did seize, flutt’rd, like palm leaves stirred by brisky breeze.

27- ﻟﻬﺎ ﺤ ﺎ ﻓِ ﺭ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لَ ﻗﹶ ﻌ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺭ ﻜﹼ ﺏ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻭ ﻅ ﻴ ﻑﹲ ﻋ ﺠِ ﺯ 27- Her hoofs, like young boys cups, were firm and small. With stout shins that; on ground would, gripping, fall.132

131 The bull’s sharp horns cutting through the hound are likened to a sucking calf’s tongue being split to stop it sucking at the cow’s udders. 132 Small hoots at end of stout shins would give greater grip, in contrast to large hoots; heavy, awkward, and ungripping.

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28- ﻟﻬﺎ ﺜ ـَ ﻨ ـَ ﻥ ﻜﺨﻭﺍﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻌﻘﺎﺏِ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻴ ﻔِ ﺌ ـْ ﻥ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺘﹶﺯﺒﺌﺭْ 28- Like eagles plumes black hairs its pasterns loop. The mare, when tense, they rise; with ease, they droop.

29- ﻭ ﺴ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻜﹶﻌﺒﺎﻫﻤﺎ ﺃﺼﻤﻌﺎﻥِ ﻟﹶ ﺤ ﻡ ﺤﻤﺎﺘﹶﻴﻬِﻤﺎ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺒ ﺜِ ﺭ 29- Hard flesh around her stout shanks seemed tied. As if twas from elsewhere to it applied.

30- ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﻋ ﺠ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺼِ ﻔ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺍﻟﻤﺴِﻴلِ ﺃﺒﺭﺯ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﺠ ﺤ ﺎ ﻑﹲ ﻤ ﻀِ ﺭ 30- Her hind; a rock that floods emburnished kept. Whilst all that lay before, away they swept.

31- ﻟﻬﺎ ﻤﺜﹾﻨﹶﺘﹶﺎﻥِ ﺨﹶﻅﹶﺎﺘﺎ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺴ ﺎ ﻋ ﺩ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻤِ ﺭ 31- Her withers, with solid muscle packed hard. Like the well-wrought sinews of the leopard.

32- ﻟﻬﺎ ﻋﺫ َ ﺭ ﻜﻘﺭﻭﻥ ِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱢ ﺴ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺭ ﻜﱢ ﺒ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻴﻭﻡ ﺭﻴﺢ ٍ ﻭ ﺼ ﺭ 32- Her profuse mane at high speed freely flows. Like woman’s wild-free hair a cold gust blows.

33- ﻭﺴﺎﻟﻔﹶﺔﹲ ﻜﺴﺤﻭﻕ ﺍﻟﻠﱡﺒﺎﻥ ﺃﻀﺭﻡ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﻭ ﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻌ ﺭ 33- Her long fair neck, high as palm tree is tall. Like spoilers setting th’tree aflame in gall.133

34- ﻟﻬﺎ ﺠ ﺒ ﻬ ﺔﹲ ﻜﹶ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺓِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺠ ﻥ ﺤ ﺫﱠ ﻗﹶ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺎ ﻨ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺩِ ﺭ 34- Her burnished brow, a fine and glowing sight. A shield by craftsman fashioned, gleaming bright.

35- ﻟﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺨ ﺭ ﻜ ﻭِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻀﺒﺎﻉ ِ ﻓﹶ ﻤِ ﻨ ﻪ ﺘﹸ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺒ ﻬِ ﺭ 35- Her nostrils wide; wide as hyenas lairs They ease out breath that ‘gainst her lungs so tears.

133 The mare’s long neck is likened to a date-palm set afire by angry spoilers, in that the fair colour of the neck is akin to the fair yellowish colour of flame.

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36- ﻭ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺤ ﺩ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﺒ ﺩ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﺸﹸﻘﱠﺕ ﻤﺂﻗﻴﻬﻤﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﺨﹶ ﺭ 36- Full-mooned and large are her protruding eyes. ‘tween top and low’r eyelids, a furrow lies..

37- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﺒ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹶ: ﺩ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﺓﹲ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﺨﹸﻀﺭ ِ ﻤﻐﻤﻭﺴﺔﹲ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐ ـُ ﺩ ﺭ 37- You’d say, should she, head on, towards you charge “she’s like marrow! Small-tipped, her round rear large”

38- ﻭﺇﻥ ﺃ ﺩ ﺒ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺃُ ﺜﹾ ﻔِ ﺘﱠ ﺔﹲ ﻤ ﻠﹶ ﻤ ﻠﹶ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﺃُ ﺜﹸ ﺭ 38- You’d say, should she, away from you, discharge: “She’s like a boulder! Smoothly round and large”.

39- ﻭﺃﻥ ﺃ ﻋ ﺭ ﻀ ﺕﹾ ﻗ ـُ ﻠ ـْ ﺕﹶ ﺴ ﺭ ﻋ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺏ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻔﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﻤ ﺴ ﺒ ﻁِ ﺭْ 39- Should she gallop past you, you’d look and say: “A locust she! To flight she leaps away”.

40- ﻭﻟﻠﺴﻭﻁ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻤ ﺠ ﺎ ل ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺘ ﻨ ﺯ لَ ﺫﻭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻤِ ﺭ 40- If whipped, she into angered gallop falls. Like overladen clouds releasing hail-balls.

41- ﻟﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺜﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻜ ﻭ ﺜﹾ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻅﱢﺒﺎﺀ ﻓ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩٍ ﺨِﻁﺎﺀ ﻭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﻁِ ﺭ 41- Deer-like are her fine-arched and bounding leaps. She canters here; while there to slow walk keeps

[26] ﻤﻨﻌﺕ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻴﺙ “ you allayed the lion” In praise of Sa’ad bin `al-Dhabab, who gave him refuge:

1- ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹶ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﻴﺙﹶ ﻤﻥ ﺃﻜل ﺍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭِ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﻴﺙﹸ ﻴﻭﺩِﻱ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺤﺠﺭ ِ 1- Th’lion, devouring Ibn Hujr, you’d allay,134 With Ibn Hujr, th’lion had almost done away.

134 Ibn Hujr: himself, the son of Hujr; his father.

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2- ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹶ ﻓﹶ ﺄ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺫﻭ ﻤ ﻥ ﻭﻨﹸﻌﻤﻰ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻲ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥ ﺍﻟ ﻀ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏِ ﺒِ ﺤ ﻴ ﺙﹸ ﻨﹶﺩﺭﻱ 2- Th’lion stopped; to your favour a debt I owe Indebted I am; and that you well should know.

3- ﺴ ﺄ ﺸﹾ ﻜﹸ ﺭ ﻙ ﺍﻟﹼﺫِﻱ ﺩ ﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹶ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺠ ﺯِ ﻴ ﻙ ﻤﻨﻲ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﺸﹸﻜﹾﺭِﻱ 3- For your defence I give my thanks to you. Nought can I give but sincere thanks and true.

4- ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺒ ﺄ ﻭ ﺜﹶ ﻕﹶ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺼ ﺭ ﻙ ﻟ ﻠ ﻔﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺃ ﻋ ﺯ ﻨﹶ ﺼ ﺭِ 4- No neighbour’s trust as well as yours can fare To your vict’ry, no fine aid, can compare.135

[27] ﺃ ﺒ ﻠ ﻎﹾ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺯﻴﺩ “Tell the Beni Zayd” Lampooning the Beni Handhal and their affiliated clans.

1- ﺃ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺯ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻟﹶﻘﻴﺘﹶﻬﻡ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠ ﻎﹾ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻟﹸﺒﻨﻰ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠ ﻎﹾ ﺘـُﻤﺎﻀِﺭﺍ 1- Should you meet “Beni Zayd”, them, in truth, should tell, ‘nd “Beni Lubna”, and “Tamadhur”, as well.

2- ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﻭﻻ ﺘﹶ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﻙ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺍ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺔِ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻘﹶ ﺭٍ ﺃُﻓﹶﻘﱢﺭﻫﻡ، ﺇﻨﻲ ﺃُ ﻓﹶ ﻘﱢ ﺭ ﻨﺎﺒِﺭﺍ 2- Tell! Let the sons of “Minqars” daughte’r take136 my wrath; for I a sland’rer’s back will break.

3- ﺃَ ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﻅﹶ لَ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻡ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺼ ﺒ ﺭ ﺘﹸ ﻡ ﻭ ﺤ ﻁﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻡ ﻭﻻ ﻴﻠﻘﹶﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﹼ ﻤ ﻴ ﻤ ﻲ ﺼﺎﺒِﺭﺍ 3- “Handhal!” were you noble, you’d have stood fast. You’ll not before “Temim”s fast-standers last.

[28] ﺃﻤﺎﻭﻱ! ﻫ لْ ﻤﻥ ﻤﻌﺭﺱ “Mawi! Might a weary traveler stay?”

135 The victory here refers to Ibn Dhabab’s victorious support for Imru’ul Qays. 136 Minqar’s daughter: The Beni Handhal he is lampooning descend, from the maternal side, from the daughter of one “Minqar”.

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1- ﺃ ﻤ ﺎ ﻭ ﻱ ﻫ لْ ﻟﻲ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻤﻥ ﻤ ﻌ ﺭ ﺱِ ﺍﻡ ﺍﻟﺼﺭﻡ ﺘﹶﺨﹾﺘﺎﺭﻴﻥ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻭ ﺼ لِ ﻨﻴﺌَﺱ ِ 1- Mawi! might I, a trav’ller, oernight stay? Or must I, with, such hopes do away?

2- ﺃﺒﻴﻨﻲ ﻟﻨﺎ، ﺇﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺔﹲ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻙ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﻠ ﻭ ﺠ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﹶﻠﹶﺒﺱ ِ 2- Be frank! For comfort lies in plainest truth. Distressful doubt is void of comfort’s ruth.

3- ﻜﹶﺄﻨﻲ ﻭﺭﺤﻠﻲ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺃ ﺤ ﻘﹶ ﺏ ﻗ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺡٍ ﺒِ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺔﹶ ﺃﻭ ﻁﺎﻑ ٍ ﺒِﻌﺭﻨﺎﻥ ﻤ ﻭ ﺠ ـِﺱ ِ 3- My mount, so like those “Sherba” wild asses Alert! It swiftly through “Irnan” passes137

4- ﺘﹶﻐﹶﺸﱠﻰ ﻗﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺃﻨﺤﻰ ﻅﹸ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﻪ ﻴﺜﻴﺭ ﺍﻟﺘﱡﺭﺍﺏ ﻋ ﻥ ﻤﺒﻴﺕٍ ﻭﻤﻜﹾﻨﹶﺱ ِ 4- At night the ass’s hoofs pound the ground and beat for cooler soil to find from baking heat.

5- ﻴﻬِﻴلُ ﻭﻴﺫﹾﺭﻱ ﺘﹸﺭﺒﻬﺎ ﻭﻴﺜﻴﺭﻩ ﺇ ﺜ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺙِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠ ﺭِ ﻤﺨﹾﻤِﺱ ِ 5- The dust swirls up, as hoofs are hard at toil. To seek cool soil the baking heat to foil.

6- ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺨ ﺩ ﺃ ﺤ ﻡ ﻭ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻜ ـِ ﺏٍ ﻭ ﻀ ﺠ ﻌ ـُ ـ ﺘ ـُ ﻪ ﻤ ﺜ ـ لُ ﺍﻷﺴﻴﺭ ِ ﺍﻟﻤﻜﹶﺭﺩﺱ ِ 6- The shelt’ring beast, out stretched, lays on its side It’s cheek on ground, like captive thrown and tied.

7- ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺕﹶ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃ ﺭ ﻁ ـَ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺤِ ﻘﹾ ﻑٍ ﻜ ـَ ﺄَ ﻨﱠ ﻬ ﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃﻟﺜـﻘﺘﻬﺎ ﻏﹶﺒﻴﺔﹲ ﺒ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻌﺭﺱ 7- The bush, by th’dug-out, was by moisture fed. The beast rejoiced, like groom at marriage bed.

8- ﻓﹶ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﻪ ﻋ ﻨ ـْ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺸﱡﺭﻭﻕ ِ ﻏﹸ ﺩ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﻜِﻼﹶﺏ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍﻭ ﻜِ ﻼ ﺏ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺴِﻨـْﺒِﺱ ِ 8- At dawn the hunt-hounds of “Ibn Murr”, and those

137 “Sherba”: a location where herds of wild ass congregate and pass through “Irnan” a gulch flanked by high hills, favoured by hunters. He says his mount darts forth as swiftly as Sherba wild asses darting through Irnan to escape lurking hunters.

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of “Sinbiss” upon the basking bull did close138

9- ﻤ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﺜﱠ ﺔﹰ ﺯ ﺭ ﻗ ﺎﹰ ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻋﻴﻭﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱠ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻭﺍﻹ ﻴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﻋﻀﺭﺱ ِ 9- Th’enhungered hunt hounds, joyous at th’prey, Their bright red eyes agleam at that which lay.

10- ﻓ ﺄَ ﺩ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴﻜﹾﺴﻭﻫﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﻡ ﻜ ﺄ ﻨﱠ ﻪ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻤ ﺩِ ﻭﺍﻵﻜﺎﻡ ﺠﺩﻭﺓ ٌ ﻤﻘﹾﺒِﺱ ِ 10- The dusted bull rose, like white flame, to pound away in gallop o’er hard, rocky ground.

11- ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﻥ ﺇﻥ ﻻﻗﻴﻨﹶﻪ ﺃ ﻥ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﻪ ﺒِﺫِﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻤ ﺙِ ﺇﻥ ﻤﺎﻭﺜﻨﻪ ُ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺃﻨﹾﻔﹶﺱ ِ 11- The bull knew that that was to be the day at “Rimth”; to slay, or slain be in the fray.

12- ﻓﹶ ﺄَ ﺩ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻴ ﺄ ﺨﹸ ﺫﹾ ﻥ ﺒﺎﻟﺴﺎﻕ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﱠﺴﺎ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕﹶ ﺍﻟ ﻭِ ﻟﹾ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﻘﹶﺩﺱ ِ 12- The pouncing hounds, its shanks and thighs did tear. Like boys tear patches off habits monks wear.139

13- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﻭ ﺭ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻁِ لﱢ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻀﺎ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﻨﹶَ ﻪ ﻜﹶﻘﹶﺭﻡ ِﺍﻟﻬِﺠﺎﻥ ِﺍﻟﻔﺎﺩِﺭ ِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺘﹶ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺱ ِ 13- The hounds, their long chase failed, to tree’s shade fleed The bull, still proud though cut, at length was freed.

[29] ﺃﻟﻤﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﻊ ﺍﻟﻘﺩﻴﻡ “Call at the old folk” On his return from Constantinope, Imru’ul Qays’s skin broke into sores. Here he is addressing his two companions, asking them for help.

1- ﺃﻟﻤﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﻡِ ﺒِﻌﺴﻌﺴﺎ ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﺃُﻨﺎﺩﻱ ﺃﻭ ﺃ ﻜﹶ ﻠﱢ ﻡ ﺃَﺨﹾﺭﺴﺎ 1- At “cAscas” call, where th`old folk are installed, They’ve responded not, `s if to mutes I called.140

138 “Ibn Murr” and “Ibn Sinbis” were two famous hunters of the Beni Tayy. 139 Devout Christian boys tear patches off monks, habits to treasure as sacred relics.

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2- ﻓﻠﻭ ﺃﻥ ﺃﻫل ﺍﻟﺩﺍﺭ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻌ ﻬ ﺩِ ﻨ ﺎ ﻭ ﺠ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻘِ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻫ ﻡ ﻭﻤﻌﺭﺴﺎ 2- It their welcome is, as once `t was, the best, I would with them have found some hours of rest.

3- ﻓﹶﻼ ﺘﹸﻨﹾﻜِﺭﻭﻨﻲ ﺇﻨﹼﻨﻲ ﺃﻨﺎ ﺫ ﺍ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻟﹶﻴﺎﻟﻲ ﺤ لﱠ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻏﹶ ﻭ ﻻﹰ ﻓﹶﺄﻟﻌﺴﺎ 3- Deny me not, for him am I the same to “Ghawl” `n “cAscas” spring pastures with you came.

4- ﻓﺈﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻴﻨﻲ ﻻ ﺃَﻏﻤﺽ ﺴ ﺎ ﻋ ﺔﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻴل ﺇﻻ ﺃﻥ ﺃُ ﻜِ ﺏ ﻓﺄﻨﹾﻌﺴﺎ 4- For I have not a good full hour of sleep But doze, after I to swirling thought keep

5- ﺘﺄﻭﺒﻨﻲ ﺩﺍﺌﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ﺩ ﻴ ﻡ ﻓﹶﻐﹶﻠﱠﺴﺎ ﺃﺤﺎﺫﺭ ﺃﻥ ﻴ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﺩﺍﺌﻲ ﻓﺄُﻨﻜﹶﺴﺎ 5- My old ailment `pon me descends at night. I plunge, with darkness, back into my plight.

6- ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻤ ﻜ ﺭ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻜﺭﺭﺕﹸ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻩ ﻭﻁﺎﻋﻨﹾﺕﹸ ﻋ ﻨ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺨﻴلَ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶﻨﹶﻔﹼﺴﺎ 6- Where’s th’one, distressed, for whom I rode and fought. Whom I’ve relieved until his breath he caught.

7- ﻭﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃَ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﻤ ﺭ ﺠ ﻼﹰ ﺤﺒﻴﺒﺎﹰ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋِ ﺏِ ﺃﻤﻠﹶﺴﺎ 7- When`s th`day when I return, my hair well-dressed. To loving belles with softest beauty blessed.

8- ﻴ ﺭِ ﻋ ﻥ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺼﻭﺘﻲ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺴ ﻤِ ﻌ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻋﻭﻱ ﻋ ﻴ ﻁﹲ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺼ ﻭ ﺕِ ﺃﻋﻴﺴﺎ 8- Lured by my voice, amrous, to me they draw, Like fine she-camels that a fine male saw.

9- ﺃ ﺭ ﺍ ﻫ ﻥ ﻻ ﻴ ﺤ ﺒِ ﺒ ﻥ ﻤ ﻥ ﻗﹶ لﱠ ﻤﺎﻟﹸﻪ ﻭﻻ ﻤ ﻥ ﺭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻴ ﺏ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻭﻗﹶﻭﺴﺎ 9- They love not those who of much wealth are short. Nor let th`bow-bent aged to them pay court.

140 He asks his companions to call at the folk at `As `as, a mountain homeland of the Beni `Amir; as if he had already done so but without response.

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10- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺨِ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺢ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻴ ﺎ ﺓِ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺃﺭﻯ ﺘﹶ ﻀ ﻴ ﻕﹸ ﺫِﺭﺍﻋﻲ ﺃﻥ ﺃ ﻗ ﻭ ﻡ ﻓﺄﻟﺒﺴﺎ 10- Fearless am I of ailment, and its woes that me so drains, I fail to wear my clothes.

11- ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﺃﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﻨ ﻔ ﺱ ﺘ ﻤ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﺠ ﻤِ ﻴ ﻌ ﺔﹰ ﻭﻟﻜﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺱ ﺘ ﺴ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹸ ﺃﻨﹾﻔﹸﺴﺎ 11- I wish my sick breath would at once expire so not my ill-frame with slow death, to tire.

12- ﻭ ﺒ ﺩ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﺩ ﺍ ﻤ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺼِ ﺤ ﺔٍ ﻟﹶ ﻌ لﱠ ﻤﻨﹶﺎﻴﺎﻨﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻭ ﻟﹾ ﻥ ﺃﺒﺅﺴﺎ 12- From health I’ve lapsed; by bleeding sores abused. My deaths to lasting mis`ry’s been reduced.141

13- ﻟﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻁﹶ ﻤ ﺢ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻤﺎﺡ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩِ ﺃ ﺭ ﻀِ ﻪِ ﻟِ ﻴ ﻠﹾ ﺒِ ﺴ ﻨ ﻲ ﻤﻥ ﺩ ﺍ ﺌِ ﻪِ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻠﹶﺒﺴﺎ 13- `Al-Tammah, far from home, to slander swore to clothe me with what he in sickness wore.142

14- ﺃﻻ ﺇ ﻥ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻌﺩﻡ ﻟ ﻠ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀِ ﻗِ ﻨﹾ ﻭ ﺓﹶ ﻭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺸِﻴﺏ ﻁﹸ ﻭ لَ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭٍ ﻭﻤﻠﹾﺒﺴﺎ 14- Ruined, one could vast possessions acquire. Aged, one could to longer years aspire.

[30] ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ ﻭﻋﺒﻴﺩ ﺒﻥ ﺍﻷﺒﺭﺹ “Imru’ul Qays and cUbayd b. al-`Abras”.

1- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺤ ﻴ ﺔﹲ ﻤ ﻴ ﺘﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻗ ﺎ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻤ ﻴِ ﺘﹶ ﺘِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺩ ﺭ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺴِ ﻨﱠ ﺎﹰ ﻭﺃﻀﺭﺍﺴﺎ 1- cUbayd: A dead serpent will ne’er from death arise, but fangless, toothless, it forever lies.

2- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﺘﹸﺴﻘﻰ ﻓﻲ ﺴﻨﹶﺎﺒِﻠِﻬﺎ ﻓ ﺄ ﺨ ﺭ ﺠ ﺕﹾ ﺒﻌﺩ ﻁﻭل ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺙِ ﺃﻜﺩﺍﺴﺎ

141 He refers to his death in the plural, as each of his recurrent pains is a death in itself.

142 `Al-Tammah, of the Beni Assad, was involved in a blood feud with Imru’ul Qays, whom he followed to Constantinople to slander him at Justinian’s court so as to prevent any forthcoming support to Imru’ul Qays. `Al-Tammah appears to have succeeded, as the poisoned cloak episode indicates. In saying al-Tammah sought “to clothe me what he in sickness wore” refers both to the poisoned cloak and the sick malice of `al-Tammah himself.

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2- Imru’ul Qays: A well-watered seed, under soil, will live. Long dormant, it, heaps `pon heaps, will give.

3- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭﺍﻟﺒـِﻴﺽ ﻭﺍﻷﺴﻤﺎﺀ ﻭ ﺍ ﺤِ ﺩ ﺓﹲ ﻻ ﻴ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻁ ﻴ ﻊ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺎﺱ ﺘِﻤﺴﺎﺴﺎ 3- cUbayd: The black, the white, all names–all are as such. Those bent on change, their changelessness, can’t touch.

4- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺏ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍﻟﺭﺤﻤﺎﻥ ﺃﺭﺴﻠﹶﻬﺎ ﺭﻭﻯ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻤِ ﺤ ﻭ لِ ﺍﻷﺭﺽ ﺃﻴﺒﺎﺴﺎ 4- Imru’ul Qays: Those clouds the Compassionate on had sent to water parched lands; `pon his order, went.

5- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘِ ﺤ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻫ ﻭ لٍ ﻤﺭﺍﻜِﺒﻬﺎ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻥ ﻁﻭل ﺍﻟﻤﺩﻯ ﺴ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺇﻤﺭﺍﺴﺎ 5- cUbayd: The planets round the wide heavens unwind. But are to their orbital paths confined.

6- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﹼ ﺠ ﻭ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺤ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻤﻁﹶﺎﻟِﻌﻬﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﻬ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺴﻭﺍﺩ ﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﺃﻗـْﺒﺎﺴﺎ 6- Imru’ul Qays: The stars that in the darkest night arise. You’d liken t’beacons that the lost will guide.

7- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﻁِﻌﺎﺕﹸ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽٍ ﻻ ﺃﻨِﻴﺱ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺘﺄﺘﻲ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻋ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺭ ﺠِ ﻌ ﻥ ﺃﻨﻜﺎﺴﺎ 7- cUbayd:The winds `cross lonesome, friendless lands that blow, come fast, and reverse not back home to go.

8- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺎ ﺡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻫ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻭﺍﺼِﻔﹸﻬﺎ ﻜﹶﻔﻰ ﺒﺄﺫﻴﺎﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﻟ ﻠ ﺘﹸ ﺭ ﺏِ ﻜﹸﻨﺎﺴﺎ 8- Imru’ul Qays: Those winds when, into raging storms do break. Tis `nough that dust is swept off by their wake.

9- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﻔﺎﺠِﻌﺎﺕﹸ ﺠ ﻬ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻓﻲ ﻋ ﻼ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺃ ﺸﹶ ﺩ ﻤ ﻥ ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﻕٍ ﻤ ﻤ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺀ ﺓٍ ﺒﺎﺴﺎ 9- cUbayd: Dire public grief that one may so befall `s no less than what a hostile host may haul.

10- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﺎﻴﺎ ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺒ ﻘ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﺤ ﺩٍ ﻴ ﻜِ ﻔ ﺘ ﻥ ﺤﻤﻘﻰ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴﺒﻘﻴﻥ ﺃﻜﻴﺎﺴﺎ 10- Imru’ul Qays:Those scything strokes of time that none do spare Both strong and foolish down they mow and tear.

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11- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺒﻘﺎﺕ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻉ ﺍﻟﻁﹼﻴﺭِ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻬ لٍ ﻻ ﻴ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻜ ﻴ ﻥ ﻭﻟﻭ ﺃﻟﺠﻤﺘﹶﻬﺎ ﻓﺎﺴﺎ 11- cUbayd: Those racing steeds, with birds in flight do vie. By bit unreined, but like bit-less birds, fly.

12- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍﻟﺠِﻴﺎﺩ ﻋﻠﹶﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﻗﺩ ﺴﺒﺤﻭﺍ ﻜﺎﻨﻭﺍ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﻏﹶ ﺩ ﺍ ﺓﹶ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﻉ ﺃﺤﻼﺴﺎ 12- Imru’ul Qays: the warrior host on steeds that onward chased. With cloth for saddle, on to th’fray had raced.

13- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻁِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺕﹸ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻓﻲ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻕٍ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎﺡِ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻥ ﻗﺭﻁﺎﺴﺎ 13- cUbayd:steeds, through wide open land, dash forth ‘fore morn Making walking white camels look forlorn.

14- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ: ﺘِ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍﻷﻤﺎﻨﻲ ﻴ ﺘﹾ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﺘﻰ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻜ ﺎﹰ ﺩﻭﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻭﻟﻡ ﺘﺭﻓﻊ ﻟﻪ ﺭﺍﺴﺎ 14- Imru’ul Qays: Wishing leaves one a king of make-believe Th’heavens will not his head up to it heave.

15- ﻋﺒﻴﺩ: ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺤﺎﻜِﻤﻭﻥ ﺒﻼ ﺴ ﻤ ﻊٍ ﻭﻻ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭٍ ﻭﻻ ﻟِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻓﹶ ﺼ ﻴ ﺢٍ ﻴ ﻌ ﺠِ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺴﺎ 15- cUbayd: No rulers are without hearing and sight, and tongue el’quent their people to delight.

16- ﺍﻤﺭﺅ ﺍﻟﻘﻴﺱ: ﺘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺯ ﻴ ﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﺤﻤﺎﻥ ﺃﻨﹾﺯﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴ ﺔِ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱِ ﻤِﻘﹾﻴﺎﺴﺎ 16- Imru’ul Qays:The scales th’Compassionate for Man had laid. So Man, by divinely made scales, be weighed.

[31] ﻟِﻤﻥ ﻁﹶﻠﹶل “ Whose is this ruined abode?” Recited at Ankyra, describing his ailment

1- ﻟِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ لٌ ﺩ ﺍ ﺜِ ﺭ ﺁ ﻴ ﻪ ﺘﹶﻘﹶﺎﺩﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺴ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻑِ ﺍﻷﺤﺭﺱ ِ 1- Whose was th’abode that, ruined, lies so low. Bestruck by Time and ages long ago.

2- ﻓﹶﺈﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻴﻨﻲ ﺒﻲ ﻋ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﻲ ﻨﹶ ﻜِ ﻴ ﺏ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻨـَﻘـْﺭﺱ ِ 2- See, how all o’er me, mange has broken out.

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As if I have, all o’er, been struck by gout.

3- ﻭﺼﻴﺭﻨﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺭ ﺡ ﻓﻲ ﺠ ﺒ ﺔٍ ﺘﹸ ﺨﹶ ﺎ لُ ﻟﺒﻴ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻟﻡ ﺘﹸـﻠـْﺒﺱ ِ 3- The sickly gown of sores that I now wear. To wear it none before did ever dare.

4- ﺘﺭﻯ ﺃ ﺜﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﺡِ ﻓﻲ ﺠِ ﻠﹾ ﺩِ ﻩِ ﻜﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺵِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨ ﻭ ﺍ ﺘِ ﻡِ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺠِﺭﺠﺱ ِ 4- On th’skin, the sores leave scars that are descried as seal-rings that to wax had been applied.

[32] ﺃﺘﻨﹸﻭﺹ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ “ Will you, in recounting Selma’s annals, delay?”

1- ﺃ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ ﺃ ﻥ ﻨ ﺄ ﺘﹾ ﻙ ﺘ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﺹ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺼِ ﺭ ﻋﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﺨﹸ ﻁﹾ ﻭ ﺓﹶ ﺃﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﺹ 1- When Selma’s gone far, with her will you break? A foot forward put, an’ther backward take?

2- ﻭﻜﻡ ﺩﻭﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﻬ ﻤ ﻪٍ ﻭ ﻤ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﺯ ﺓٍ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺠ ﺩ ﺏٍ ﺩﻭﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻭ ﻟ ـُ ﺼ ﻭ ﺹ 2- For she’s beyond waste lands; dry, vast and bare. Deserts thick with bandits who none will spare.

3- ﺘﺭﺍﺀﺕ ﻟﻨﺎ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺒِ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺏِ ﻋ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﺯ ﺓٍ ﻭﻗﺩ ﺤ ﺎ ﻥ ﻤِﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﺭِ ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻓ ـ ﻘﹸ ـ ﻠ ﻭ ﺹ 3- Her vision at “`Unaiza” t’me appeared,143 while on her way onward her mount she steered.

4- ﺒ ﺄ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻑﱢ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﺩ ﺍ ﺌِ ﺭِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺩٍ ﻭﺫﻯ ﺃُ ﺸﹸ ﺭٍ ﺘﹶ ﺸﹸ ﻭ ﻓﹸ ﻪ ﻭ ﺘ ﺸﹸ ﻭ ﺹ 4- Her flowing black hair wreathed in plaits encoiled. Her fine white teeth, enbrighted and unsoiled.

5- ﻤﻨﺎﺒِﺘـُﻪ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺩ ﻭ ﺱِ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﻨﹸ ﻪ ﻜﹶ ﺸﹶ ﻭ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﺴﻴﺎل ﻓﻬﻭ ﻋ ﺫﹾ ﺏ ﻴ ﻔ ﻴ ﺽ 5- Her teeth were of the brightest whiteness born

143 `Unaiza: a location, probably a mountain. `Unaiza’ was also the poet’s cousin.

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Agleam with milk of the “Sayyal” tree’s thorn.144

6- ﻓﹶﺩﻋﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺴ لْ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻡ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﺒِ ﺠ ﺴ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺼ ﻡ ﺍﻟﻌِﻅﺎﻡ ﺃ ﺼ ﻭ ﺹ 6- Leave her and drive your gnawing cares away, on hard-boned she-camel, e’er mounted; stay.

7- ﺘﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺎ ﻫ ﺭ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻲ ﻻِﻫﻲ ﺒ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻭﻻ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕﹶ ﻀِ ﻐﹾ ﻥٍ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺯﻤﺎﻡ ﻗﹶ ﻤ ﻭ ﺹ 7- Full-fleshed is she, not young, nor does she yearn for home pastures; nor slow to guide or learn.145

8- ﺃﺅﻭﺏ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻭ ﺏ ﻻ ﻴ ﻭ ﺍ ﻜِ لُ ﻨﹶﻬﺯﻫﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﹶﻴلَ ﺴﻴﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﺠ ﻴ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺼ ﻴ ﺹ 8- Her legs at canter are e’er brisk and light Although, ‘tis said, cant’ ring is best at night.

9- ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﻭﺭﺤﻠﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻘِﺭﺍﺏ ﻭﻨﹸﻤﺭﻭﻗﻲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺸﹸ ﺏ ﻟ ﻠ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭِ ﺍﻟﺼﻐﺎﺭ ﻭﺒﻴﺽ 9- As if my gear will soon be set alight. When small flints break out `n flames that blaze alight.146

10- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻨِ ﻘﹾ ﻨِ ﻕٍ ﻫ ﻴ ﻕٍ ﻟﻪ ﻭ ﻟِ ﻌ ﺭ ﺴِ ﻪِ ﺒﻤﻨﻌﺭﺝِ ﺍﻟﻭﻋﺴﺎﺀِ ﺒ ﻴ ﺽ ﺭ ﺼ ﻴ ﺹِ 10- The long-necked ostrich, and its mate; pacing. And then, o’er white, firm sandy lands; racing.

11- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺭ ﺍ ﺡ ﻟ ﻸ ﺩ ﺤِ ﻲ ﺃَ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻴ ﻔﹸﻨﱡﻬﺎ ﺘ ـُ ﺤ ﺎ ﺫِ ﺭ ﻤِﻥ ﺇ ﺩ ﺭ ﺍ ﻜِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺤِ ﻴ ﺹ 11- Both to their nest return at end of day. For skulking predators to chase away.

12- ﺃ ﺫﹶ ﻟِ ﻙ ﺃ ﻡ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﻴﻁﺎﺭِﺩ ﺁﺜِﻨﺎﹰ ﺤ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﻓﺄﺭﺒﻰ ﺤ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻬ ﻥ ﺩ ﺭ ﻭ ﺹ 12- Does th’ ostrich with my swift camel compare? Or with th’wild-ass stallion chasing th’mare?

144 Sayyal tree’s thorn: Sayyal-flowing liquid- was a species of tree whose thorns produce a milky fluid used for dental hygiene. 145 She: refers to the she-camel. 146 “My gear” refers specifically in this line to his scabbard, his camel saddle, and his pillow. He means that the camel is so fleet that it is likely to spark off the small flints underfoot into a blaze that would consume those items of his gear.

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13- ﻁ ﻭ ﺍ ﻩ ﺍﻀﻁﻤﺎﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸ ﺩ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﻥ ﺸ ﺎ ﺯِ ﺏ ﻤﻌﺎﻟﻰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﻨﻴﻥِ ﻓﻬﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﺹ 13- Th’wild-ass’s belly, in hard leanness bewrought. It’s withers high, through chase of what it sought.

14- ﺒ ﺤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶ ﺩ ﺡ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺭ ﺏِ ﺠﺎﻟﺏ ﻭ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭ ﻜﹸ ﻪ ﻤِﻥ ﺍﻟﻜِﺩﺍﻡ ﺤ ﺼ ﻴ ﺹ 14- A hard hunt-scar upon its forelock shows. It’s flank, from bite-marks, all its hair did lose.

15- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﻭ ﺠ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻜﻨﺎﺌﻥ ﻴﺠﺭﻱ ﺒ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﺩ ﻟ ﻴ ﺹ 15- On its’ straight back a line lies bright and bold. Like a fine quiver that’s lined with streaks of gold.

16- ﻭ ﻴ ﺄ ﻜﹸ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻟﹸ ﻌ ﺎ ﻋ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺭِ ﺒ ﺔﹰ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﺒ ﺭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﻷ ﻜﹾ لِ ﻓﹶ ﻬ ﻭ ﻨ ﻤ ﻴ ﺹ 16- At “Qaww”, on young tender herbage they chew. Herbage cropped, but sprouted yet anew.

17- ﺘ ـُ ﻁ ﻴ ﺭ ﻋِ ﻔ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶﺴِﻴلٍ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻨﱠ ﻪ ﺴ ﺩ ﻭ ﺱ ﺃﻁﺎﺭﺘﹾﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺎ ﺡ ﻭ ﺨﹸ ﻭ ﺹ 17- From th’ Ostrich plumes; soft, tender down enfrays, In profusion falls, or is blown away.147

18- ﺘﹶﺼﻴﻔﹶﻬﺎ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺴ ﻎﹸ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺤ ﻠِ ﻲ ﺒﺄﻋﻠﻰ ﺤ ﺎ ﺌِ لٍ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺼ ﻴ ﺹ 18- In summer, on such herbage th’ wild-ass feeds. When “Ha`il” grazing it likes not or needs.148

19- ﺘﹶﻐﺎﻟﹶﺒﻥ ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺯ ﺀ ﻟﻭﻻ ﻫ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠِ ﺭ ﺠﻨﹶﺎﺩِﺒﻬﺎ ﺼﺭﻋﻰ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﻓﹶ ﺼ ﻴ ﺹ 19- On wat’ry spring grazing the ass had fed, t’allay summ’r heat that leaves the locust dead.

20- ﺃ ﺭ ﻥ ﻋﻠﻴﻬﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻁﹸ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹸ ﺃ ﺭ ﺴ ﺎ ﻍِ ﺍﻟﻴﺩﻴﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻭ ﺹ 20- Loud th’ wild-ass brays when finding water that lean camels seek, straining at th’ halter.

147 He likens the tender herbage the wild ass grazes on, with down; young feathers that fall off, or is blown away from the Ostrich’s plumage. 148 “Ha`il” , a location, probably the modem town of Ha`il in Saudi Arabia.

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21- ﻓﺄﻭﺭﺩﻫﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺁﺨﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﻴلِ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﻼ ﺜِ ﻕﹶ ﺨﹸ ﻀ ﺭ ﺍﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺅ ﻫ ﻥ ﻗ ﻠِ ﻴ ﺹ 21- It drinks at well-watered pools, late at night. Water planty and high, a quenching sight.

22- ﻓ ﻴ ﺸ ﺭ ﺒ ﻥ ﺃ ﻨ ﻔ ﺎ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﻫ ﻥ ﺨ ﻭ ﺍ ﺌِ ﻑﹸ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﺭ ﻋ ﺩ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻜﹸﻠﹶﻰ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﺭ ﻴ ﺹِ 22- So short of breath, th’ asses their drink partake. While their shanks, with terror, quiver and quake.149

23- ﻓ ﺄ ﺼ ﺩ ﺭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺘﹶﻌﻠﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺩ ﻋ ﺸ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺏ ﻜﹶ ﻤِ ﻘﹾ ﻼ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺸﹶ ﺨِ ﻴ ﺹ 23- After drink, ass ‘n camel t’ high ground find way So lean and light as pots with which boys play.150

24- ﻓﹶ ﺠ ﺤ ﺵﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃ ﺩ ﺒ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻫِ ﻥ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﻠﱠ ﻑﹲ ﻭ ﺠ ﺤ ﺵﹲ ﻟﺩﻯ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﻫِ ﻥ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺹ 24- A stallion follows the herd’s upward trek, another leads them down, falls, ‘n breaks its neck.151

25- ﻭ ﺃ ﺼ ﺩ ﺭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺒﺎﺩﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠِ ﺫِ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺡ ﺃ ﻗ ﺏ ﻜﹶ ﻜﹸ ﺭ ﺍﻷﻨﹾﺩِﺭﻱ ﻤ ﺤ ﻴ ﺹ 25- From mouth agape, their leader’s molars show. Like “Andar” ‘s ropes, their hard-twist bodies go.152

[33] ﺃﻋِﻨﹼﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕٍ “ Help me behold lightning flashing bright ”

1- ﺃﻋِﻨﹼﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺃ ﺭ ﺍ ﻩ ﻭﻤﻴﺽ ِ ﻴﻀﺊ ﺤﺒِﻴﺎﹰ ﻓﻲ ﺸﹶﻤﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﺦﹶ ﺒِﻴﺽ ِ 1- Help me behold lightning flashing hard’n bright.

149 The beasts are terrified of hunters that might be lurking for them at the water pool. 150 Young boys play a game using light well-wrought pots. He likens the light playful movements of ass and camel frolicking together, after drinking, and on their way to higher safer ground, with boys playing pots. Camels, of course, are not game as wild-ass are, but seem to absorb the asses fear when drinking at pools. 151 The wild ass herd, having watered, treks up to higher ground, followed by a slow-paced, protecting stallion. When thirsty, the herd races down to the pool, led by a galloping stallion, who stumbles, falls, and breaks its neck. 152 The lean rounded hardness of the wild ass is likened to the strongest best-made rope, made by one “Andar”.

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Lighting up clouds o’er high peaks shimm’ring white.

2- ﻭﻴﻬﺩﺃ ﺘﹶﺎﺭﺍﺕٍ ﺴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻩ ﻭﺘﹶﺎﺭﺓً ﻜﹶﺘِﻌﺘﹶﺎﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺴِ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺃﻟﻤﻬِﻴﺽ ِ 2- It’s flash, at times, appears with tardy glow. Like leg-stricken camel, on three, walks slow.

3- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺨﹾ ﺭ ﺝ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻻ ﻤِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬـــﺎ ﺃ ﻜﹸ ﻑﱞ ﺘﹶﻠﹶﻘﱠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔﹶ ﻭ ﺯ ﻋ ﻨ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﻔِﻴﺽ ِ 3- From clouds, instant lightning streaklets break out. Swift! As joyous winning gamblers, clap’n shout.

4- ﻗﹶ ﻌ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﻟ ﻪ ﻭﺼﺤﺒﺘﻲ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻀﺎﺭِﺝ ٍ ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺘِﻼﻉ ِ ﻴ ـ ﺜ ـْ ـ ﻠ ـُ ﺙﹶ ﻓﺎﻟﻌﺭﻴﺽ ِ 4- I sat, and watched the lightning flash, with friends `Tween “Dharij”, n’ “Aridh”; “Yathluth”, that wat’r sends153

5- ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﻗﹶﻁﹶﺎﺘﹶﻴﻥِ ﻓﹶ ﺴ ﺎ لَ ﻟِﻭﺍﻫﻤﺎ ﻓﹶﻭﺍﺩﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺩِ ﻱ ﻓﺎﻨﺘﺤﻰ ﻟﻸﺭِﻴﺽ ِ 5- Rain fell at “Qatatayn”, flooding its sand. Then at “Bedii”; that prom’sing fertile land.154

6- ﺒِ ﻼ ﺩ ﻋ ﺭ ﻴ ﻀ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﺽ ﺃ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻀ ﺔﹲ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻊ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺙٍ ﻓﻲ ﻓﹶ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻋﺭﻴﺽ ِ 6- A country wide, whose soil is rich and soft. ‘pon which gushing torrents fall from aloft.

7- ﻭﺃﻀﺤﻰ ﻴ ﺴ ﺢ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀ ﻋﻥ ﻜ لّ ﻓِ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﺤ ﻭ ﺯ ﺍﻟﻀﺒ ﺎ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺼ ﻔ ﺎ ﺼِ ﻑﹶ ﺒﻴﺽ ِ 7- The falling torrents flood the lower land. On high’r ground, stranded desert rodents stand.

8- ﻓﺄﺴﻘﻲ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺃﺨﹾﺘِﻲ ﻀﻌﻴﻔﺔ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻨﹶ ﺄ ﺕﹾ ﻭﺇﺫ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺯﺍﺭ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ـََََََ ﺭ ﻴ ﺽ ِ 8- On my far sister, may rain’s blessings fall. I reach her not; in verse to her I call.

9- ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺒ ﺔٍ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺯ ﺝ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﺃُ ﻗﹶ ﻠﱢ ﺏ ﻁﹶﺭﻓﻲ ﻓﻲ ﻓﹶ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻋﺭﻴﺽ ِ

153 He and his companions sat between three locations “Dharij”, “Aridh” and “Yathluth”. The last location is a network of irrigation ditches that sends water to the groves. They sat to watch lightning and ascertain the location of rainfall. 154 The “Bedii” valley is identified as a homeland of the Beni `Amir in Nejd; known for its fertility.

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9- I stand alert on mountain peaks, to watch. And coming n’going strangers sight to catch.

10- ﻓﹶ ﻁِ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﻋِﻨﹾﺩﻱ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﺒ ﺩِ ﻩِ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻲ ﺃُﻋﺩﻱ ﻋ ﻥ ﺠ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺡٍ ﻤ ﻬِ ﻴ ﺽ ِ 10- I waited, with my dark unsaddled mare, My wing broke, support ‘n her I find; and care.155

11- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺃ ﺠ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻤ ﺱ ﻋﻨﱢﻲ ﻏِﻴﺎﺭﻫﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺇﻟﻴﻪ ﻗ ﺎ ﺌ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺒﺎﻟﺤﻀﻴﺽ ِ 11- I watched at th’ peak for friends throughout the day. At dusk, down t’ my steed went, and rode away.

12- ﻴﺒﺎﺭِﻱ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺓﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻤ ﺢِ ﺨﹶ ﺩ ﻤ ﺫﹶ ﻟﱠ ﻕﹲ ﻜﹶ ﺼ ﻔﹾ ﺢِ ﺍﻟﺴِﻨﹶﺎﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻠﹾ ﺒِ ﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺤِﻴﺽ ِ 12- The steed, long ‘n lightly built, well wrought and lean. Like straight lance whose stone-whetted point, is keen.

13- ﺃُ ﺨﹶ ﻔﱢ ﻀ ﻪ ﺒﺎﻟﻨﱠﻘﹾﺭِ ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﻊ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﻓ ﺎﹰ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﺠ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻏﹶﻀﻴﺽ ِ 13- At mounting, th’ steed with latent power seethed. I had to calm it; it to calmly lead.

14- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃﻏﹾﺘﹶﺩﻱ ﻭﺍﻟﻁﹶﻴﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻭﻜﹸﺭﺍﺘِﻬﺎ ﺒ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺠ ﺭِ ﺩٍ ﻋ ﺒ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻗﹶﺒﻴﺽ ِ 14- I rise, ‘fore dawn, when birds are still at nest. To mount a steed, that of its breed, is best156

15- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻗﹸﺼﺭﻴﺎ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﺴ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺤ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬِ ﺠ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻴﻨﹾﺘﹶﺤِﻲ ﻟِﻠﹾﻌﻀﻴﺽ ِ 15- Like wild-ass ribbed; Ostrich legs that rise ‘n height Vig’rous as ped’gree,ired camels, that bite.157

16- ﻴ ﺠ ﻡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﻗﻴﻥ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻜﹶ ﻼ ﻟِ ﻪِ ﺠ ﻤ ﻭ ﻡ ﻋ ﻴ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺤِﺴﻰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻤﺨﻴﺽ ِ

155 The verse reports his dark mare as being covered only by a saddle cloth. He describes himself as wing-broken, like a mountain eagle with broken wing. He leans on his fiery mare for support. 156 The verse describes the qualities of such a steed: it is short haired, with stout, firm shanks and pastems, is hard-built and swift at gallop. The gender of the steed is unclear. The verse uses a masculine pronoun when referring to it. Mohammad al-Fadhl Ibrahim, in his commentary, refers to it as a mare. 157 Fine pedigree white camels, brimming with aggressive energy were known to bite when displeased.

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16- E’en when ‘tis tired, faster forward flies. Like well-water; drawn, will e’er upward rise

17- ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒﻪ ﺴ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻨﹶ ﻘِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﺠ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﻩ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎ ﻥ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺏ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﻴﺽ ِ 17- ‘pon it, an oryx herd, I thrilled with fear, As ‘a sheepfold’s set afright when wolf comes near.

18- ﻭﻭﺍﻟﻰ ﺜ ﻼ ﺜ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺍ ﺜ ﻨﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻭ ﺃ ﺭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﺭ ﺃﺨﺭﻯ ﻓﻲ ﻗ ﻨ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺭﻓﻴﺽ ِ 18- First, three it hunted down; then two, then four. And left a fifth that broken lance did bore.158

19- ﻓ ﺂ ﺏ ﺇﻴﺎﺒﺎﹰ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻨﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﻜِ لٍ ﻭ ﺃ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹶ ﻑﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﺒﻌﺩ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻓﹶﻀﻴﺽ ِ 19- It wheeled; it turned; it raced in d’rections all; till pouring sweat, in streams, did from it fall.

20- ﻭ ﺴِ ﻥ ﻜﺴﻨﱢﻴﻕٍ ﺴ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺀ ﻭ ﺴ ﻨﱠ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻤِ ﺩ ﻻ ﺝِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺠ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻨﹸﻬﻭﺽ ِ 20- A hefty bull; rock-like, hard and massive. In heat is stalked, while oth’r beasts are passive.159

21- ﺃﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀ ﺫﺍ ﺍﻷﺫﻭﺍﺩ ﻴ ﺼ ﺒِ ﺢ ﻤ ﺤ ﺭ ﻀ ﺎﹰ ﻜﺎﺤﺭﺍﺽ ِ ﺒ ﻜﹾ ﺭٍ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻤﺭﻴﺽ ِ 21- Behold a fine young man of untold wealth. Whose wealth is useless if stricken in health.

22- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺍﻟﻔﺘﻰ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﻐﹾ ﻥِ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻨ ﺎ ﺱِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻋ ﺔﹰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﺨ ﺘﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻑﹶ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﺤﻴﺎﻥِ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺠﺭﻴﺽ ِ 22- ‘Tis as if one had never lived ones life. when death-gasps through one’s jaws are rife.

[34] ﺠ ﺯ ﻋ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃَ ﺠ ﺯ ﻉ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥِ “ I’ve grieved, but from remoteness have grieved not ”

1- ﺠ ﺯ ﻋ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺠ ﺯ ﻉ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻤ ﺠ ﺯ ﻋ ﺎ ﻭ ﻋ ﺯ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒﺎﻟﻜﹶﻭﺍﻋِﺏِ ﻤﻭﻟﹶﻌﺎ

158 “It” refers to the horse – and its rider- as the hunter. 159 The massive oryx bull is stalked by a hunter on a steed during baking heat when other beasts lie down passively, enervated by the climate.

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1- I’ve grieved, but from remoteness have grieved not. Consoled a heart with lovely belles besot.

2- ﻭ ﺃ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﻋ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺃﻨﱠﻨﻲ ﺃُ ﺭ ﺍ ﻗِ ﺏ ﺨﹶ ﻼﱠ ﺕٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﺵِ ﺃﺭﺒﻌﺎ 2- Though I to bygone youth have bid farewell, yet four, ‘f what life offers, still watch full well:-

3- ﻓﹶ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﻗﹶﻭﻟﻲ ﻟﻠﻨﹶﺩﺍﻤﻰ ﺘﹶﺭﻓﹼﻌﻭﺍ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺸﱠ ﺎ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻤﺘﹾﺭﻋﺎ 3- I watch hearty boon companions at drink, close to wine tuns flowing at the brink.

4- ﻭ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺽ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لِ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺠ ﻡ ﺒﺎﻟﻘﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﻴ ﺒ ﺎ ﺩِ ﺭ ﻥ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺁ ﻤِ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﺃﻥ ﻴﻔﹶﺯﻋﺎ 4- I watch gall’ping hunters pounding away, startling peaceful game fleeing from the fray.

5- ﻭ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺹ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺱِ ﻭﺍﻟﻠﱠﻴلُ ﺸ ﺎ ﻤِ لٌ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻤ ﻡ ﻤ ﺠ ﻬ ﻭ ﻻﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽِ ﺒﻠﹾﻘﹶﻌﺎ 5- I watch pure white camels, bright at night, towards unknown lands, heading out of sight.

6- ﺨﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺝ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒ ﺭ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻨﺤﻭ ﻗ ﺭ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﺠ ﺩ ﺩ ﻥ ﻭ ﺼ ﻼﹰ ﺃﻭ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﻥ ﻤﻁﹾﻤﻌﺎ 6- Out of the wilds, towards a village, head to meet loved ones, or t’covet gain, are led.

7- ﻭ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﺴِ ﻭ ﻓ ﻲِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺒﻠﱠﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺩﻯ ﺘﹸ ﺭ ﺍ ﻗِ ﺏ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻅ ﻭ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻡِ ﻤﺭﻀﻌﺎ 7- I watch a perfumed, soft-dewed belle; alert. Who guards well her fine-necklaced child, ‘gainst hurt.

8- ﻴ ﻌِ ﺯ ﻋﻠﹶﻴﻬﺎ ﺭِﻴﺒﺘﻲ ﻭ ﻴ ﺴ ﻭ ﺀ ﻫ ﺎ ﺒ ﻜ ﺎ ﻩ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺜﹾ ﻨ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺩ ﺃ ﻥ ﻴ ﺘﹶ ﻀ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ 8- She bears my care for her; th’child’s cries distress. To quiet it, it to her neck does press.

9- ﺒ ﻌ ﺜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﹸﺠﻭﻡ ﺴﻭﺍﻁِﻊ ﺤِ ﺫ ﺍ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻋﻠﻴﻬﺎ ﺃﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻭ ﻡ ﻓﹶﺘﺴﻤﻌﺎ 9- I sent her word when stars through night emerged. “Beware of coming lest you should be heard”.

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10- ﻓﹶ ﺠ ﺎ ﺀ ﺕﹾ ﻗﹶ ﻁ ﻭ ﻑﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺸ ﻲِ ﻫﺎﺌﺒﺔ ﺍﻟﺴﺭﻯ ﻴﺩﺍﻓﻊ ﺭﻜﹾﻨﹶﺎﻫﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋ ﺏ ﺃﺭﺒﻌﺎ 10- In slow tiptoe she came, so coy ‘n demure. With four full-breast’d belles onward her to lure.

11- ﻴﺯﺠﻴﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﺸﹾ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺯ ﻴ ﻑِ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺠﺭﻯ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻜﹶﺭﻯ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﺨﱢ ﻪِ ﻓﹶﺘﹶﻘﹶﻁﱠﻌﺎ 11- Gently, they help her on. She lightly swayed. As one needing aid when by much drink is dazed.

12- ﺘﹶ ﻘ ﻭ لُ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺠﺭﺩﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺜﹶﻴﺎﺒِﻬﺎ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺭ ﻋ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺤ ﻭ لَ ﺍ ﻟﹾ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻤِ ﻊِ ﺃﺘﹾﻠﹶﻌﺎ 12- I took her clothes, and there she was undressed. Wide-eyed, long-necked like oryx calf. She said:

13- ﺃ ﺠ ﺩ ﻙ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺸ ﺊٌ ﺃﺘﺎﻨﹶﺎ ﺭِ ﺴ ﻭ ﻟﹸ ﻪ ﺴِﻭﺍﻙ، ﻭ ﻟ ﻜِ ﻥ ﻟﻡ ﻨﹶ ﺠِ ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﻙ ﻤﺩﻓﹶﻌﺎ 13- “To no messenger will we now reply. Nor will I, what you want of me, deny”.

14- ﻓﹶﺒﺘﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﻴ ﺼ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵﹸ ﻋﻨﱠﺎ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻨﹶﺎ ﻗﹶﺘﻴﻼﻥ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﻌ ﻠﹶ ﻡ ﻟﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﺱ ﻤﺼﺭﻋﺎ 14- O’er night, wild beasts away from us had stayed. We both were slain; none knew when we were slayed.

15- ﺘﹶﺠﺎﻓﻲ ﻋ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺄﺜﻭﺭ ﺒﻴﻨﻲ ﻭﺒﻴﻨﹶﻬﺎ ﻭﺘﹸﺩﻨﻲ ﻋﻠﹶﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﺒِ ﺭِ ﻱ ﺍﻟﻤﻀﻠﱠﻌﺎ 15- She, from th’ sword that lay by us, draws away. And on me draws a cloak that close by lay

16- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃ ﺨﹶ ﺫﹶ ﺘﹾ ﻬ ﺎ ﻫِ ﺯ ﺓﹲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻉِ ﺃ ﻤ ﺴ ﻜﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻜِ ﺏِ ﻤِﻘﹾﺩﺍﻡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﻭ لِ ﺃﺭﻭﻋﺎ 16- When thrilled with fear, a pleading hand she laid on ‘shoulder stout that through hard times had stayed.

[35] ﺭ ﺍ ﻋ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻕِ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭﻋﺎ “ Her sudden flight ”

1- ﻟﹶﻌﻤﺭﻱ ﻟﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﺤ ﺎ ﺠ ﺔﹶ ﺫﻱ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﺴ ﻌ ﺎ ﺩ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﻋ ﺕﹾ ﺒﺎﻟﻔِﺭﺍﻕِ ﻤﺭﻭﻋﺎ 1- With lovers need, Su cad fled out of sight.

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Her sudden flight so thrilled love with fright.160

2- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻀ ﺎ ﺕِ ﺤ ﻭ لَ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻁٍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﻠﱡﺞ ﻤﺭﺃﻯ ﻤِﻥ ﺴ ﻌ ﺎ ﺩ ﻭﻤِﺴﻤﻌﺎ 2- Gardens round “Mukhatat” and “Lujj” will stay within eye and earshot ‘f where “Sucad” lay.

3- ﻤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺴ ﻌ ﺎ ﺩ ﺘﹶ ﻘِ ﻑﹾ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﺭِ ﻋ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻤ ﻭ ﻉ ﻓﺘﹶﺩﻤﻌﺎ 3- Should I behold where’er Sucad may dwell. My tears would of re-kindled anguish tell.

[36] ﺜﹶﻭﻯ ﺃﺒﻭ ﺍﻷﻴﺘﺎﻡ “ The orphans’ father is at rest ”

An elegy on ‘al-Harith b. Habib al-Salmi who accompanied him to Syria:

1- ﺜﻭﻯ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺔِ ﺠ ﻭ ﻑﹶ ﺒﺼﺭﻯ ﺃﺒﻭ ﺍﻷﻴﺘﹶﺎﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﻜﹶلﱢ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﺠ ﺎ ﻑِ 1- By palms at “Jawf Busra” now lies, at rest;161 of fathers of orphans ‘n striplings; the best.

2- ﻓﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴﺤﻤِﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻀ ﺎ ﻑﹶ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺩ ﻋ ﺎ ﻩ ﻭ ﻴ ﺤ ﻤِ لُ ﺨﹸ ﻁﹼ ﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻷ ﻨﹶ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﻌِ ﺎ ﻑِ 2- Who now, will, to protect the dest’tute, seek? And bear the burden of the meek and weak?

[37] ﻋِ ﻡ ﺼﺒﺎﺤ ﺎﹰ ﺃﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ ﻊ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﻁِ ﻕِ “ Good morn, Folk ”

1- ﺃﻻ ﺍﻨﹾﻌﻡ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﺃﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ ﻊ ﻭﺍﻨﹾﻁـِﻕ ِ ﻭ ﺤ ﺩ ﺙﹾ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺏِ ﺇﻥ ﺸِ ﺌ ﺕﹶ ﻓﺎﺼﺩِﻕ ِ

160 With lover’s needs: she has fled away with what he needs of her as a lover; thus terrifying him. 161 Jawf Busra: a location in Syria.

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1- Good morn to you, friends, and let us speak162 as those riding togeth’r the truth do seek.

2- ﻭ ﺤ ﺩ ﺙﹾ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺯﺍﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﺒِﻠﹶﻴ لٍ ﺤ ﻤ ﻭ ﻟﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﻜﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺨ لٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻷﻋﺭﺍﺽ ِ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤﻨﹶﺒﻕ ِ 2- And tell how, o`ernight, their camels vanished.163 Leaving them like palms whose fruit had perished.

3- ﺠ ﻌ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﺤﻭﺍﻴﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﻗﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺩ ﻥ ﻗﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺤ ﻔﹼ ﻔﹾ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺤ ﻭ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﻌـِﺭﺍﻕ ِ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﻤﻕ ِ 3- Sitting at the camel frames they’d retrieved, they set to work, `Iraq’s bright cloth they weaved.164

4- ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻭ ﺍ ﻴ ﺎ ﻏِ ﺯ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﺠ ﺂ ﺫ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻀ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙٍ ﺫ ﻜ ﻲ ﻭﺯﻨﹾﺒﻕ ِ 4- On pads, young maids sat to their craft. Perfumed, with scent of musk and tulip awaft.

5- ﻓﺄﺘﺒﻌﺘﹸﻡ ﻁﹶﺭﻓﻲ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺤ ﺎ لَ ﺩ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﻏ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺏ ﺭ ﻤ لٍ ﺫﻱ ﺃ ﻻ ﺀٍ ﻭﺸِﺒﺭِﻕ ِ 5- My eyes followed, till of them lost sight behind trees rising on a sandy height.165

6- ﻋﻠﻰ ﺇ ﺜﹾ ﺭِ ﺤ ﻲ ﻋ ﺎ ﻤِ ﺩ ﻴ ﻥ ﻟِﻨﻴﺔٍ ﻓﹶﺤﻠﹼﻭﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻘ ﻴ ﻕﹶ ﺍﻭ ﺜﹶﻨﻴﺔﹶ ﻤﻁﹾﺭِﻕ ِ 6- I followed tracks of folk, bent on their way. Who at “cAqiq” or “Mutraq” plan to stay.

7- ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﺯ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻨﹶﻔﹾﺴﻲ ﺤِ ﻴ ﻥ ﺒﺎﻨﻭﺍ ﺒِ ﺠ ﺴ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺃ ﻤ ﻭ ﻥٍ ﻜﺒﻨﻴﺎﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻬ ﻭ ﺩ ﻱ ﺨﹶﻴﻔﹶﻕ ِ 7- Consoled I was when their cam’l came in sight. So tall it was, as Jew’s house rises ‘n height.166

162 “Good morn” was a standard salutation of the pre-Islamic Arabs. He urges candid conversation with his friends as they set out for the hunt. Those riding together, he says- for mutual protection and gain- are truthful in their conversation. 163 He tells a story to his companions as they ride out together. 164 Their camels having been driven away while at pasture they sat to the camel’s saddling frames, which they turned to looms, and set about weaving `Iraqs’ bright, ornamented cloth; sitting on sacks used for padding the saddle-frames around the animals’, humps. 165 The verse identifies the species of trees as “Alaa`” and “Shabraq”, that flourish on sandy heights. 166 “Jew’s house”: refer’s to `al-Ablaq”, the mansion of the Jewish poet ‘al-Samaw’al, known for his loyalty and devotion to those who seek his aid, as Imru’ul Qays did.

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8- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺯ ﺠِ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺃﻟﻔﹶﻴﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﻌِ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺘﹸﻨﻴﻑﹸ ﺒِ ﻌِ ﺫﹾ ﻕٍ ﻤ ﻥ ﻏﹶﺭﺍﺱ ِﺍﺒﻥ ﻤﻌﻨِﻕ ِ 8- Prodded, see how she briskly breaks t’canter. Her ample tail hangs rich; dates in cluster.167

9- ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺡ ﺠ ﻬ ﺎ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﺒ ﺈ ﺜ ﺭِ ﺠﻬﺎﻡ ٍ ﺭﺍﺌِﺢ ٍ ﻤﺘﹶﻔﹶﺭﻕ ِ 9- So fast she goes, like cloud whose rain was shed. And, after oth’r such clouds, had swiftly fled.

10- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻫِ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺠﻨِﻴﺒﺎﹰ ﺘﹶﺠﺭﻩ ﺒِ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﻁﹶﺭﻴﻕ ٍ ﺼ ﺎ ﺩ ﻓﹶ ﺘ ـ ﻪ ﻭﻤﺄْﺯِﻕ ِ 10- She canters wild, as if upon her side a furious scratching cat to her is tied.168

11- ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﻭﺭﺤﻠﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻘِﺭﺍﺏ ﻭﻨﹸﻤﺭﻗﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻴ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺌ ﻲ ﺫﻱ ﺯ ﻭ ﺍ ﺌِ ﺩ ﻨِﻘﹾﻨِﻕ ِ 11- On her; with my saddle, cushions, and sheath; as if I had an ostrich underneath.169

12- ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃﺭﺽ ٍ ﻷﺭﺽ ٍ ﻨﹶ ﻁِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻟ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﺓِ ﻗﹶﺒﺽ ٍ ﺤ ﻭ لَ ﺒﻴﺽ ٍ ﻤﻔﹶﻠﱠﻕ ِ 12- Such ostrich that paces with great dispatch, in care for eggs that in far lands will hatch.

13- ﻴ ﺠ ﻭ لُ ﺒِﺂﻓﺎﻕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒِ ﻼ ﺩِ ﻤ ﻐ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﺤ ﻘﹸ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﺎ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﻤﺴﺤﻕ ِ 13- Westward it roams; across lands far and near. With brisk breezes for tail wind at its rear.

14- ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﺕِ ﻴ ﻔﹸ ﻭ ﺡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻙ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻵ ﻓ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻤ ﺭﻭﻕ ِ 14- A house where musk wafts ‘cross its rooms and floors. From sickness free, without dark corridors.170

15- ﺩ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒﻴﻀﺎﺀ ﺠ ﻡٍ ﻋِﻅﹶﺎﻤﻬﺎ ﺘﺤﻔﻲ ﺒﺫﻴل ِ ﺍﻟﺩِﺭﻉ ِ ﺍﺫ ﺠِ ﺌ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻭ ﺩِ ﻗ ﻲ 15- With one fair, full-fleshed belle I laid me down,

167 The richly clustered dates specifically refer to the choice date palms planted by one Ibn Mu`annaq. 168 The verse mentions the camel, with a scratching cat tied to its flank, passing through narrow gorges. 169 With all his baggage on her, she is as fleeting as an ostrich. 170 The house here is probably `al-Ablaq, the mansion of the poet `al-Samaw`al.

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who then wiped my footprints off with her gown.

16- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﺍﻟﺴﻤﺎﺀِ ﻨﹸﺠﻭﻤﻬﺎ ﺭ ﻜ ﻭ ﺩ ﻨﻭﺍﺩِﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻤﺜﻭﺭﻕ ِ 16- The stars, midst heavens held quiet and still. Like oryx herd, at night, cropping its fill

17- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃﻏﹾﺘﹶﺩﻱ ﻗﺒل ﺍﻟﻌﻁﹶﺎﺱ ِ ﺒِ ﻬ ﻴ ـ ﻜﹶ لٍ ﺸﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩِ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻨﹾ ﺏِ ﻓﹶ ﻌِ ﻡِ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﻁﱠﻕ ِ 17- ‘fore dawn, when all’s quiet, I rise to deed to mount a temple of a stone-flanked steed171

18- ﺒ ﻌ ﺜﹾ ﻨ ﺎ ﺭﺒِﻴﺌﺎﹰ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺫﹶ ﻟِ ﻙ ﻤ ﺨ ﻤِ ﻼﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺫِ ﺌ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻀﺎ ﻴﻤﺸﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻭﻴﺘﱠﻘﻲ 18- The scout we sent by hill-top trees abides, like stealthy wolf that in a spinney hides.172

19- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻜﹶ ﻤِ ﺜ ـْ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨِ ﺸﹾ ﻑِ ﻴ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﻊ ﺭ ﺃ ﺴ ﻪ ﻭﺴﺎﺌﺭﻩ ﻤِ ﺜ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﺘ ـُ ﺭ ﺍ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻤﺩﻗﱠﻕ ِ 19- Flat down, on ground, the lurking scout did lay Like born calf; so’s not him to prey betray.173

20- ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﺀ ﺨﹶ ﻔِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻴ ﺴ ﻔِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽ ﺒﻁﹾﻨﹸﻪ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍﻟﺘﱡﺭ ﺏ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻻ ﺼ ﻘ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺼ ﻕِ 20- On ground he moves in slowest belly crawl, To him dust sticks, ‘nd till end of crawl, won’t fall. 21- ﻓﹶ ﻘ ﺎ لَ ﺃ ﻻﹶ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺼِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﺨِ ﻴ ﻁﹸ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﻡٍ ﻴﺭﺘﹶﻌِﻲ ﻤ ﺘ ﻔ ﺭ ﻕِ 21- Said he “are’nt those oryx herds and wild-ass; and scattered ostrich grazing on the grass?”.

22- ﻓﹶﻘﹸﻤﻨﺎ ﺒ ﺄ ﺸﹾ ﻼ ﺀِ ﺍﻟﻠﱢﺠﺎﻡ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻨﹸ ﻘﹸ ﺩ ﺇﻟﻰ ﻏ ﺼ ﻥِ ﺒﺎﻥ ٍ ﻨﹶﺎﻀِﺭ ٍ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴﺤﺭﻕ ِ 22- I, with bit-strap, arose the horse to rein. In spirits high, it at the rein did strain.174

171 the steed is likened to a temple in its height and solid masonry. 172 The scout was sent to reconnoiter the prey before the poet rose at dawn “to deed”, i.e the hunt. The wolf also hides, in stealth, for its prey. 173 “Like born calf”: Like a newly-born oryx calf lying heavily on the ground. So with the scout; with only slight movements of his head to observe prey.

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23- ﻨﹸﺯﺍﻭﻟﹸﻪ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺤﻤﻠﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﻏﹸﻼﻤﻨﹶﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻁٍ ﻜﺎﻟﺼﻠﻴﻑِ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﺭﻕ ِ 23- We all tried hard to place our boy on horse whose frame’s well-turned, and races through its course.175

24- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻏﹸﻼﻤﻲ ﺇﺫ ﻋﻼ ﺤ ﺎ لَ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻅﹶ ﻬ ﺭِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺯٍ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻤﺤﻠﱢﻕ ِ 24- My boy, at length on horse was mounted high. Like ‘pon a hawk that way up high does fly.

25- ﺭﺃﻯ ﺃ ﺭ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻓ ﺎ ﻨﹾ ﻘﹶ ﺽ ﻴﻬﻭﻱ ﺃ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤ ﻪ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺠ ﻼﹼ ﻫ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﻤﻠﹶﻘﹾﻠﹶﻕ ِ 25- A hawk, spying a hare from way up high, zoomed down ‘pon that it did from high espy.

26- ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺼﻭﺏ ﻭﻻ ﺘﹸ ﺠ ﻬِ ﺩ ﻨﱠ ﻪ ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﺫِ ﺭ ﻙ ﻤ ﻥ ﺃﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻁﺎﺓِ ﻓﹶﺘﹶﺯﻟﹶﻕ ِ 26- To boy said I:“spur not! Steer’t so with stealth. Or else its pow’r would throw you down to death”.

27- ﻭ ﺃ ﺩ ﺒ ﺭ ﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠ ﺯ ﻉِ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﺼل ﺒ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺒِ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﻐﹸﻼﻡ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺹِ ﺍﻟﻤﻁﹶﻭﻕ ِ 27- So rich and bright colours th’ oryx bedeck, like richest beads round a well-born boy’s neck.

28- ﻭ ﺃ ﺩ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﺜﺎﻨﻴﺎﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻋ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻴ ﺙِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺸ ﻲ ﺍ ﻷ ﻗﹾ ﻬ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﺘﻭﺩِﻕ ِ 28- The steed soon caught the herd upon the plain. Like land caught by the heavy pour of rain.

29- ﻓﹶ ﺼ ﺎ ﺩ ﻟﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﺜ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺨ ﺎ ﻀِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻋِ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻀ ﺢ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻓﹶﻴﻌﺭﻕ ِ 29- A bull, an ass, an ostrich f’r us it caught. Yet dry it stayed, with sweaty stress unfraught.

30- ﻭ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﻏﹸﻼﻤﻲ ﻴ ﻀ ﺠِ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻤ ﺢ ﺤ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻟِ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺓٍ ﺃﻭ ﻷَ ﺤ ﻘﹶ ﺏ ﺴﻬﻭﻕ ِ

174 The verse likens the horse’s supple, finely arched neck to a “ban” tree branch. The horse, enthusiastic about the coming hunt, and in high spirits, does not hold still for the bit to be placed in its mouth. 175 The boy could not mount the horse of alacrity, by himself and had to be helped on. “well-turned refers to wood work supporting the camel saddle. The horse was as “well-turned” as the camel saddle’s wood work.

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30- My lad with ease his lance on beasts let fall on oryx, ‘nd asses with fine necks and tall.

31- ﻭ ﻗ ﺎ ﻡ ﻁﹸﻭﺍل ﺍﻟﺸﺨﺹ ﺇﺫ ﻴ ﺨ ﻀ ﺒ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻗﻴﺎﻡ ﺍﻟﻌﺯﻴﺯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﺎ ﺭ ﺴِ ﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﹶﻁﱠﻕ ِ 31- The hunting steed, with prey’s spilt blood is smeared. A sashed Persian grandee; awesome, and feared.

32- ﻓﹶﻘﹸﻠﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﺃﻻ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﺼ ﻴ ﺩ ﻟﹶﻘﺎﻨِﺹ ٍ ﻓﹶ ﺨﹶﺒﻭﺍ ﻋﻠﻴﻨﺎ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭ ﻕِ ِ 32- Said we: “Fine hunt did th’finer hunter pluck. So let fine tent for us to rest, be struck”

33- ﻭ ﻅﹶ لﱠ ﺼِ ﺤ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻲ ﻴ ﺸ ﺘﹶ ﻭ ﻭ ﻥ ﺒ ﻨﹾ ﻌ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻴ ﺼ ﻔﱡ ﻭ ﻥ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺒﺎﻟﻠﻜﻴﻙِ ﺍﻟﻤﻭﺸﱠﻕ ِ 33- Prime meat my friends had cut and boiled in brine. Then in a cave they hung th’ boiled in line.

34- ﻭﺭﺤﻨﹶﺎ ﻜﺄﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻥ ﺠﺅﺍﺜﻰ ﻋ ﺸﱠ ﻴ ﺔِ ﻨﹸﻌﺎﻟﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﱢﻌﺎﺝ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻋ ﺩ لٍ ﻭﻤﺸﹾﻨﹶﻕ ِ 34- Like “Ju`atha” kings back from hunting feat we left; our bags and mounts heavy with meat.176

35- ﻭﺭﺤﻨﹶﺎ ﺒِ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻴ ﺠ ﻨﹶ ﺏ ﻭﺴﻁﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ ﻓ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﻁﹶ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻘ ﻲ 35- We left on streamlined steeds, speedy and free. Like sightly birds eyes ever yearn to see.

36- ﻭ ﺃ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢ ﺯ ﻫ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﻻﹰ ﻴ ﺯِ لﱡ ﻏﹸﻼﻤﻨﺎ ﻜﹶﻘِﺩﺡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻀ ﻲ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩ ﻴ ﻥِ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﹶﻭﻕ ِ 36- The smooth-backed steed could well the lad o’er throw. ‘t was light; as an unpoint’d, unfeath’rd arrow.

37- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺩِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺎ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺕِ ﺒِ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻋ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﺤ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺒِ ﺸﹶ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻤﻔﹶﺭﻕ ِ 37- Besmeared with blood of th’ wild-asses it slayed like “henna” with which graying hair is laid.177

176 “Ju`atha”: a prosperous city in Bahrain, known for its thriving markets. 177 Wild ass blood on its neck is likened to henna, the blood-coloured hair dye still in use now. Henna was, and is still used as a cosmetic to dye women’s’ hands and feet on festive occasions.

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[38] ﻻ ﻴﺫﹾﻫﺏ ﺸﹶﻴﺨﻲ ﺒﺎﻁِﻼ “ M’sire’s blood shall not in vain be shed ”

`al-Hyatham b. cUdey relates that Imru’ul Qays, when still a boy, was staying with his relatives, the Beni Handhal when news of his father’s murder came in, with details of the bloody episode. Given the horrendous news, he cried out:

1- ﻴﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻑﹶ ﻫِ ﻨﹾ ﺩٍ ﺍﺫ ﺨﹶ ﻁِ ﺌ ﻥ ﻜﺎﻫِﻼ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﺘِ ﻠ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻼ ﺤِ ﻼﹶ 1- Hind! Th’strike at “Kahil” of the mark shot wide. Where slayers of the noble king still hide.178

2- ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ ﺤ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻼﹰ ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻫ ﻡ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺸﹶﻤﺎﺌِﻼ 2- To end “Macads” blood line I am intent. The last of them shall know on what I’m bent.179

3- ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻥ ﺠﻠﹶﺒﻨﹶﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺭ ﺡ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻭﺍﻓِﻼ ﺘﺎﻟﻠﹼﻪ ﻻ ﻴ ﺫﹾ ﻫ ﺏ ﺸﻴﺨﻲ ﺒﺎﻁِﻼ 3- On hard and lean war-steeds to war we sped. By God! M’sire’s blood shall not in vain be shed.

4- ﻴ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻠﹾ ﻨﹶ ﻨ ﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﻷ ﺴ لَ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﻭﺍﻫِﻼ ﻭ ﺤ ﻲ ﺼ ﻌ ﺏٍ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺸ ﻴ ﺞ ﺍﻟﺫﺍﺒِﻼ 4- Us, and thirsty lances, our steeds will bear. To thrust at “Sa`ab”, ‘n his flimsy harness tear.180

5- ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺸ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺕٍ ﺒﺎﻟﺤﺼﻰ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻼﹰ ﻴﺴﺘﹶﺸﺭِﻑﹸ ﺍ ﻷ ﻭ ﺍ ﺨِ ﺭ ﺍﻷﻭﺍﺌِﻼ 5- At their strappings, their hoofs fast pebbles shoot Last steeds o’er take first; all with surest foot.181

178 Hind is variously named by commentators as the poet’s sister, or daughter. Here he cries out to her in pain. Kahil was an encampment of the Beni Assad, his father’s slayers. Building on what the courier told him, he relates how his clan’s horsemen, aiming at Kahil, missed it and struck elsewhere. 179 “Ma`ad” is the ancestor of the Beni Assad, his father’s slayers. 180 Thirsty: blood thirsty. Sa`ab is identified as Sa`ab b. ` b. Bekr b. Wa`il- implicated in his father’s murder.

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ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃُﺒﻴﺩ ﻤﺎﻟِﻜﺎﹰ ﻭﻜﺎﻫِﻼ ً 6- 6- Til I with “Malik” ‘n “Kahil” do away.182

[39] ﻓﹶﻼ ﺘﹸ ﺴ ﻠِ ﻤ ﻨ ﻲ ﻴﺎ ﺭﺒﻴﻊ “ Deliv’r me not, Rabci ”

It was related that Imru’ul Qays had grossly offended his father by his cutting verse, so much so that his father ordered one of his retainers, Rabica, to take him away, have him slain and bring back his eyes. The retainer took the young offending poet to a mountain, left him there, and brought back the gouged eyes of an oryx. The father, deeply grieved by his hasty, angry decision, sank into deepest gloom. The retainer comforted him, cheering him up with the news that the offending son was alive and well. Rabica returned to bring young Imru’ul Qays back, as the remorse-ful father ordered. As the retainer met him, the young poet recited these lines:

1- ﻓﹶﻼ ﺘﹸﺴﻠِﻤﻨﱢﻲ ﻴﺎ ﺭﺒِﻴﻊ ﻟِ ﻬ ﺫِ ﻩِ ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺃﺭﺍﻨﻲ ﻗﹶ ﺒ ﻠﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻙ ﻭﺍﺜﻘﺎ 1- Deliv’r me not, Rabci, to this dire fate. In you I had full trust till this dire date.

2- ﻤﺨﹶﺎﻟِﻔﹶﺔﹲ ﻨﹶﻭﻯ ﺃ ﺴِ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﺒِ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺜــُﺭﻯ ﻋﺭﺒِﻴﺎﻥٍ ﻴ ﺸِ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺒﻭﺍﺭِﻗﺎ 2- Captive I’m not who far from home had sate to watch, where lightning’s bless’d rain falls, and wait.

3- ﻓﺄﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭِﻴﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺭ ﺃْ ﺱِ ﺸ ﺎ ﻫِ ﻕٍ ﻓﻘﺩ ﺃﻏﺘﺩﻱ ﺃ ﻗﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﺃ ﺠ ﺭ ﺩ ﺘﺎﺌِﻘﺎ 3- I’m seen today, atop a mountain, cast. T’morrow, hunt-bound on stoutest steed and fast.

4- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﺫﹾ ﻋ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵﹶ ﺍﻟﺭِﺘﺎﻉ ﺒِ ﻘﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃﺠﺘﻠﻲ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺽ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﺩ ﻭ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﺍﺌِﻘﺎ 4- I may startle qu’et prey, grazing away.

181 “Strappings”; Saddle-straps. 182 Line 6 consists of one concluding hemistich.

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And may my eyes on lovely women lay.

5- ﻨﹶﻭﺍﻋِﻡ ﺘﹶﺠﻠﻭ ﻋ ﻥ ﻤ ﺘﹸ ﻭ ﻥٍ ﻨﹶ ﻘِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﻋ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺭ ﻴ ﻁ ﺎﹰ ﺠ ﺎ ﺴِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﻘ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻘ ﺎ 5- Lovely women, their backs so clear and bare, Perfumed; who gowns, red’n saffron yellow, wear.

[40] ﺃﻻ ﻋِ ﻡ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺤ ﺎﹰ “ ‘Good Morn’ to you ”

1- ﺃﻻ ﻋ ﻡ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﺃﻴﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻠﹶلُ ﺍﻟﺒﺎﻟﻲ ﻭ ﻫ لْ ﻴ ﻌ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺼ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﺎﻟﻲ 1- Good morn to you, o ruined abode of yore. Do folk prosper who lived here long before?

2- ﻭ ﻫ لْ ﻴ ﻌِ ﻤ ﻥ ﺇﻻ ﺴ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺩ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﻠﱠ ﺩ ﻗﹶﻠﻴلَ ﺍﻟﻬﻤﻭﻡِ ﻤﺎ ﻴﺒﻴﺕﹸ ﺒﺄﻭﺠﺎل ِ 2- Who prospers but one who lives in cheer. Whose cares are few and ne’er spends nights in fear.

3- ﻭ ﻫ لْ ﻴ ﻌِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻤ ﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺃ ﺤ ﺩ ﺙﹸ ﻋ ﻬ ﺩِ ﻩِ ﺜﻼﺜﻴﻥ ﺸﹶ ﻬ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻓﻲ ﺜﹶ ﻼ ﺜﹶ ﺔﹸ ﺃﺤﻭﺍل ِ 3- The closest t’prospering I had ever been was thirty months in space of score ‘n sixteen.183

4- ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﻟِ ﺴ ﻠﹾ ﻤ ﻰ ﻋﺎ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﺒِﺫﻱ ﺨﹶ ﺎ لِ ﺃَ ﻟﹶ ﺢ ﻋﻠﻴﻬﺎ ﻜﹸ لﱡ ﺃ ﺴ ﺤ ﻡ ﻫﻁﱠﺎل ِ 4- “Dhi Khal”, Selma’s home, is no longer there t’rrential rain reduced it to ruins bare.

5- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺴ ﺏ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﺯ ﺍ لُ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﻁﹶ ﻼ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻭﺤﺵ ِ ﺍﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎﹰ ﺒِﻤﻴﺜﺎﺀ ِ ﻤﺤﻼل ِ 5- Selma’s vision, at th’vale, appears among ostrich nest eggs, and oryx with their young.184

6- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺴِ ﺏ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ ﻻ ﺘ ﺯ ﺍ لُ ﻜﹶ ﻌ ﻬ ﺩِ ﻨ ﺎ ﺒِﻭﺍﺩﻱ ﺍﻟﺨﹸﺯﺍﻤﻰ ﺍﻭ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭ ﺱ ﺃﻭﻋﺎل ِ 6- Selma appears where together once were we;

183 The closest he came to prosperity and good forture was a period of thirty months in the space of three years. 184 He so imagines Selma after her home is inundated by torrential rain.

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where rams drink by th’ well in the flow’ry lea.

7- ﻟﹶﻴﺎﻟﻲ ﺴﻠﻤﻰ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﺘﹸ ﺭ ﻴ ﻙ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﻴ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﺭﺌﻡ ِ ﻟ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒـِﻤﻌﻁﺎل ِ 7- O for Selma’s nights! Pearl teeth set aright. Her bare neck, like a hind’s, was fine and white.

8- ﺃ ﻻﹶ ﺯ ﻋ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎ ﺴ ﺔﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺃَﻨﻨﻲ ﻜﹶﺒِﺭﺕ ﻭﺃﻥ ﻻ ﻴ ﺤ ﺴِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﹶﻬﻭ ﺃﻤﺜﺎﻟﻲ 8- “Bisbasa” claims, for love I’m old and done; that my sort know not how t’play games of fun.185

9- ﻜﹶ ﺫِ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻟﻘﺩ ﺃُﺼﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀِ ﻋِ ﺭ ﺴ ﻪ ﻭ ﺃَ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻊ ﻋِﺭﺴِﻲ ﺍﻥ ﻴ ﺯ ﻥ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺨﺎﻟﻲ 9- She lies! Women on to me do firmly hold; and they I hold from wifeless bucks and bold. 10- ﻭﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺒ ﺂ ﻨِ ﺴ ﺔٍ ﻜﺄﻨﻬﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻁﱡ ﺘِﻤﺜﹶﺎل ِ 10- O for those merry days, and nights till dawn. With maid pretty as picture is well-drawn.

11- ﻴ ﻀ ﺊُ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺵﹶ ﻭﺠﻬﻬﺎ ﻟِ ﻀ ﺠ ﻴ ﻌِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻤِ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺡِ ﺯ ﻴ ﺕٍ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹶﻨﺎﺩﻴلُ ﺫﺒﺎل ِ 11- At night her face lights up her bed-mate’s bed. Like lanterns’ wicks that light ‘pon darkness shed.

12- ﻜﺄﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻟﹶﺒﺎﺘِﻬﺎ ﺠ ﻤ ﺭ ﻤ ﺼ ﻁﹶ لٍ ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﻏﹶ ﻀ ﻰ ﺠ ﺯ ﻻﹰ ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻑﱠ ﺒﺄﺠﺫﹶﺍل ِ 12- Jewels ‘pon her chest, like live embers, glow. Like the embers warmth-seekers poke and blow.

13- ﻭ ﻫ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺢ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻠِ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﺼﻭﻯ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺎ لٌ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺯِ لِ ﻗﹶﻔﱠﺎل ِ 13- Embers from fires glowing on wind-blown heights Beacons to trav’llers on dark, chilly nights.186

14- ﻭ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ ﻠِ ﻙِ ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺽِ ﻁﹶ ﻔﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﻟﹶ ﻌ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﺘﹸﻨﹶﺴﻴﻨﻲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﹸ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﺴِـﺭﺒﺎﻟﻲ 14- The soft, white-cheeked, pearl-teethed, tender young maid

185 “Bisbasa”: a woman he knew in later years. 186 The jewels glowing on her bare chest guide him to her warmth, as long-lasting hardwood fires, and their embers on wind-bloom heights guide chilled travelers seeking warmth.

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so struck me dumb that I my shirt mislaid!!

15- ﻜﹶ ﺤِ ﻘﹾ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﻘﺎ ﻴﻤﺸﻲ ﺍﻟﻭﻟﻴﺩﺍﻥ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﻪ ﺒﻤﺎ ﺍﺤﺘﹶﺴﺒﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻤ ﺱ ﻭﺘﹶﺴﻬﺎل ِ 15- Her body’s curves in firm roundness stand. Firm as two boys play on firm dunes of sand

16- ﻟﹶ ﻁ ﻴ ﻔﹶ ﺔٍ ﻁﹶ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺸ ﺢِ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﻔ ﺎ ﻀ ﺔٍ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﺔﹰ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤِﺜـْـﻔﺎل ِ 16- Unswelled in waist, her sides and belly tight. Not unperfumed, swaying in her delight.

17- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺠِ ﻴ ﻊ ﺍﺒﺘﹶﺯﻫﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺜِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺘﹶﻤﻴلُ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻫ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻏ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤِ ﺠ ﺒﺎل ِ 17- After her man, in bed, had her undressed, ever so gently on to him she pressed.

18- ﺘﹶﻨﹶﻭﺭﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﺫﹾ ﺭِ ﻋ ﺎ ﺕٍ ﻭﺃَﻫﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺜ ﺭ ﺏ ﺃﺩﻨﻰ ﺩﺍﺭﻫﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻅﹾ ﺭ ﻋﺎل ِ 18- Visions of her at “Atharat” had I. She in “Yethrib”, her house stands far and high.187

19- ﻨﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﹸﺠﻭﻡ ﻜﺄﻨﻬﺎ ﻤﺼﺎﺒﻴﺢ ﺭ ﻫ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺘ ـُ ﺸﹶ ﺏ ﻟِﻘـُﻔـﱠﺎل ِ 19- Visions I had when bright shone th’starlit dome. Like monks’ lanterns, guiding travelers home188

20- ﺴ ﻤ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﺇﻟِﻴﻬﺎ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻡ ﺃﻫﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺴ ﻤ ﻭ ﺤ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀِ ﺤ ﺎ ﻻﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺤﺎل ِ 20- To her I went when her folk were asleep. Like water through soil, I to her did seep.

21- ﻓﹶﻘﺎﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﻪ ﺇ ﻨﹼ ﻙ ﻓﺎﻀِﺤِﻲ ﺃ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﺕﹶ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺭ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱ ﺃﺤﻭﺍﻟﻲ 21- “Curse you!” she cried “In shame you’ll have me bound,. Folk are awake and chatting all around”.

22- ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻴ ﻤ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﷲِ ﺃ ﺒ ﺭ ﺡ ﻗ ﺎ ﻋِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﻟﻭ ﻗﹶﻁﱠﻌﻭﺍ ﺭﺃﺴِﻲ ﻟﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﻙِ ﻭﺃﻭﺼﺎﻟﻲ

187 “Atharat”: a location in Syria. “Yethrib” is the Pre-Islamic name of the Islamic city of Medina. 188 Both stars, and monks’ lanterns guide travelers home. He hopes that both stars, and lanterns will one day guide him back to her.

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22- “I swear” said I “that here is where I’ll sit though caught and torn apart, bit after bit”.

23- ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺒ ﺎ ﷲِ ﺤ ﻠﹾ ﻔﹶ ﺔﹶ ﻓ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺭٍ ﻟﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻤ ﺎ ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﺇ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙٍ ﻭﻻ ﺼﺎل ِ 23- My oath was false when she of folk took fright. For I had swore that all were sleeping tight.

24- ﻓﹶﻠﹶﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻨﺎﺯﻋﻨﹶﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹶ ﻭ ﺃَ ﺴ ﻤ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻫ ﺼ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻐﹸ ﺼ ﻥٍ ﺫﻱ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﺦﹶ ﻤﻴﺎل ِ 24- We talked, and when at length her fears were few. her curls and tender limbs to me I drew.

25- ﻭ ﺼِ ﺭ ﻨ ﺎ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﺤﺴﻨﻰ ﻭ ﺭ ﻕﱠ ﻜﹶﻼﻤﻨﺎ ﻭ ﺭ ﻀ ﺕﹸ ﻓﹶ ﺫﹶ ﻟﱠ ﺕﹾ ﺼﻌﺒﺔ ﺃ ﻱ ﺇﺫﻻل ِ 25- Our pleasure came, our talk was sweet and shy. Fall tamed she was, and ready to comply.

26- ﻓﹶ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻌ ﺸﹸ ﻭ ﻗ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺃ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢ ﺒﻌﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺎ ﻡ ﺴ ﻴ ﺊَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻅﱠ ﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﺒﺎل ِ 26- Her sire then knew that I her beau became He was engloomed in dire, withering shame.

27- ﻴ ﻐﹸ ﻁﱡ ﻏﹶ ﻁ ﻴ ﻁﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﺸﹸ ﺩ ﺨِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻗﹸ ﻪ ﻟِ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻠﹶ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺭﺀ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِﻘﹶﺘﱠﺎل ِ 27- His angry words were like a camel’s snort.189 Me he sought to slay, but was not the slaying sort.

28- ﺃَ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹸﻠﹸﻨﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻤِﺸﹾﺭﻓﻲ ﻤﻀﺎﺠـِﻌِﻲ ﻭ ﻤ ﺴ ﻨ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹲ ﺯ ﺭ ﻕﹲ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﹾﻴﺎﺏِ ﺃﻏﹾﻭﺍل ِ 28- Slay me? While sword lies by me while I sleep, and shafts, like devils’ fangs,close by I keep?

29- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِﺫﻱ ﺭ ﻤ ﺢٍ ﻓﹶﻴﻁﹾﻌﻨﻨﻲ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِﺫِﻱ ﺴ ﻴ ﻑِ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِﻨﹶﺒﺎل ِ 29- Spearman he’s not; no spear at me could throw. Swordsman he’s not; nor archer skilled with bow.

30- ﺃ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻠﹸ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺸﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻓﺅﺍﺩﻫﺎ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺸﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻑﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻬ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﺀ ﺓﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺠ لُ ﺍﻟﻁﹶﺎﻟﻲ

189 A knotted rope was tied round the neck of a rogue camel to tame it, making the beast snort loudly in protest.

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30- Will he slay me ‘cause I her heart had won. As the camel’s heart is won when th’ rubbing’s done?190

31- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ ﻭﺇﻥ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﺒﻌﻠﹶﻬﺎ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﺘﻰ ﻴﻬﺫﻱ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِﻔﹶﻌﺎل ِ 31- Though he’s her sire, yet Selma knows indeed that he but raves and cannot do the deed.

32- ﻭﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺇ ﻥ ﺫﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨِ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹶﻐِﺯﻻﻥ ﺭ ﻤ لٍ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﺏ ﺃﻗﻴﺎل ِ 32- “I’ve known such lovely maids”, him I could tell. “Gazelles of grace by roy’lty raised so well”.

33- ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﻋﺫﹶﺍﺭﻯ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺩ ﺠ ﻥِ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﺠ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻴ ﻁِ ﻔﹾ ﻥ ﺒِ ﺠ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻕِ ﻤِﻜﹾﺴﺎل ِ 33- Into a house I went one dusky day, where full-fleshed dames did saunter by and sway

34- ﺴِﺒﺎﻁﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻨ ﺎ ﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﺭﺍﻨﻴﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﻘﹶﻨﺎ ﻟِﻁﺎﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﺼ ﻭ ﺭِ ﻓﻲ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡٍ ﻭﺇﻜﻤﺎل ِ 34- Soft were they in manner and in form. Slim waists! Perfection far above the norm.

35- ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋِ ﻡ ﻴﺘﹾﺒﻌﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﺴ ﺒ لُ ﺍﻟﺭﺩﻯ ﻴ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﻷ ﻫ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻠﹾ ﻡِ ﻀ ﻼ ﺒِﺘﻀﻼل ِ 35- To paths of death through those of love they lead. They lure the good through every dastard deed.

36- ﺼ ﺭ ﻓﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺨ ﺸ ﻴ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﺭﺩﻯ ﻭ ﻟ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ﻤ ﻘ ﻠ ﻲ ﺍﻟﺨِﻼل ِ ﻭﻻ ﻗﺎل ِ 36- From them, fear of scandal turned me away Though we no mutual loathing did betray.191

37- ﻜﹶﺄﻨﹼﻲ ﻟﻡ ﺃ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻟِ ﻠ ﺫﱠ ﺓٍ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻁﱠ ﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻋِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕﹶ ﺨِﻠﹾﺨﺎل ِ 37- As if I’ve nev’r mounted with joy a steed.

190 She- camels, when stricken with ailment, usually mange, are rubbed down with a tar-solution. He says Selma was love sick and I cured her, winning her heart, as the rubber wins the heart of the ailing camel he treats. 191 The verse uses “death” to mean “scandal”, in the sense that scandal is so notorious that it does away with him as death does. He turns away from such women though there is nothing loathsome in his, or their, manner or appearance. Only the depraved character of such women turns him away. He is describing a brothel.

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Nor anklet-wearing wench to bed did lead.192

38- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃﺴﺒﺄ ﺍ ﻟ ﺯ ﻕﱠ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻭ ﻱ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃَ ﻗﹸ لْ ﻟِﺨﹶﻴﻠﻲ ﻜﹸﺭﻱ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺓﹰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺇﺠﻔﺎل ِ 38- ‘Tis as if I’ve nev’r had full wine-skins bought, nor steed spurred on that back by fright was brought.193

39- ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻬ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻐ ﻴ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﻀﺤﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻫ ﻴ ﻜﹶ لٍ ﻋﺒـل ٍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺯ ﺍ ﺭ ﺓ ﺠﻭﺍل ِ 39- As if I’ve nev’r seen horsemen raid at morn on stout steeds that on stouter shanks are born.

40- ﺴ ﻠ ﻴ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺸﱠﻅﹶﻲ ﻋ ﺒ لِ ﺍﻟﺸﱠﻭﻯ ﺸﹶﻨِﺞ ِ ﺍﻟﻨﹼﺴﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺤ ﺤِ ﺒِ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﺭِ ﻓ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻔﺎﻟﻲ ِ 40- Whose firm sinews their hardy shanks propel. Whose stout hind bones their hinds with power swell.

41- ﻭ ﺼ ﻡ ﺼِ ﻼ ﺏ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻘ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤِﻥ ﺍﻟﻭﺠﻰ ﻜﺄﻥ ﻤ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭﺩﻑ ﻤِ ﻨ ـْ ﻪ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭﺍل ِ 41- Hardest hoofs, fearless of being unshod. ‘s if on ostrich a rider’s way had trod.194

42- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃَ ﻏﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﻱ ﻭﺍﻟﻁﹶﻴﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﻨ ﺎ ﺘِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻴ ﺙﹲ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻭﺴﻤِﻲ ﺭ ﺍ ﺌِ ﺩ ﻩ ﺨﺎل ِ 42- I rise early while bird is still at nest to leas where warring clans nev’r are at rest.195

43- ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺎ ﻤ ﺎ ﻩ ﺃ ﻁ ﺭ ﺍ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺡِ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﺩ ﻋﻠﻴﻪ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﺃ ﺴ ﺤ ﻡ ﻫﻁﱠﺎل ِ 43- This lea, to arms is closed from ev’ry side. To heav’ly laden clouds, is open wide.

44- ﺒِ ﻌ ﺠ ﻠﹶ ﺯ ﺓٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﺘ ﺭ ﺯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺭ ﻱ ﻟﹶﺤﻤﻬﺎ ﻜﹸ ﻤ ﻴ ﺕٍ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﻫ ﺭ ﺍ ﻭ ﺓ ُ ﻤِﻨﹾﻭﺍل ِ 44- Hard-tempered mare, whose legs still harder kick.

192 He laments the passing of his youth. Ageing makes him feel as if the pleasures of youth might just as well not have taken place. 193 Spurring onward a frightened horse was considered one of the pleasures enjoyed by a rider. 194 “rider” refers to a second rider. So light of movement is the horse, that the second rider feels as if he’s mounted on an ostrich. 195 The leas, lush pastures, are fought over by warring clans. At length the clans stay away from it, leaving a neutral outsider to enjoy it. The verse mentions heavy clouds for the lea; heavy rainfall making it unusually lush.

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Reddish-black, lean and straight as weaver’s stick.

45- ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻨﹶ ﻘ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﺠ ﻠ ﻭ ﺩ ﻩ ﻭ ﺃَ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻋ ﻪ ﻭ ﺸﹾ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺭ ﻭ ﺩِ ﻤِﻥ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﺎل ِ 45- By it, pure-white oryx were tak’n aback.196 Their legs, like Yem’ni cloaks, speckled in black.

46- ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﺇﺫ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﻬ ﺩ ﻋ ﺩ ﻭ ﻩ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺠﻤﺯﻱ ﺨﹶ ﻴ لٌ ﺘﹶ ﺠ ﻭ لُ ﺒﺄﺠﻼﹶل ِ 46- The oryx herd, galloping on in fright were like horses covered in blankets white.197

47- ﻓﹶ ﺠ ﺎ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺜﹶ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﺒِ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﻫ ﺏٍ ﻁﹶﻭﻴلِ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﺭﺍ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﻭﻕِ ﺃ ﺨﹾ ﻨﹶ ﺱ ﺫﹶﻴﺎل ِ 47- At th’herd’s rear was a huge and ageing bull. Wide-backed, long-horned, short-nosed; tail thick and full.

48- ﻓﹶﻌﺎﺩﻯ ﻋ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻭ ﺭِ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﺔٍ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﻋ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵِ ﻤﻨﱠﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺒﺎل ِ 48- Both cows and bulls the hardy hunter slew while I took count, and kept the herd in view.

49- ﻜﺄﻨﱢﻲ ﺒِ ﻔﹶ ﺘﹾ ﺨ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍﻟﺠﻨﹶﺎﺤﻴﻥ ﻟﹶ ﻘ ﻭ ﺓٍ ﺼﻴﻭﺩ ﻤِﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻘﹾ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻁﺄﻁﺄﺕ ﺸِ ﻤ ﻼ ﻟ ﻲِ 49- When I, forward, did this swift steed bespur, I’m on a zooming eagle-hawk awhirr.

50- ﺘﹶ ﺨﹶ ﻁﱠ ﻑﹸ ﺨِ ﺯ ﺍ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺔِ ﺒﺎﻟﻀﺤﺎ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﺜﹶﻌﺎ ﻟ ﺏ ﺃﻭﺭﺍل ِ 50- An eagle that zooms down on “Sherba” hares . From it, “Awral” foxes fled to their lairs.

51- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻁﱠ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺭ ﻁﹾ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﻴ ﺎ ﺒ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻟﺩﻯ ﻭﻜﹾﺭِﻫﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻨﹼ ﺎ ﺏ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺸﹶ ﻑﹸ ﺍﻟﺒﺎﻟﻲ 51- Th’eaglet, to feed on heart of bird, awaits Fresh hearts−like grapes; dry ones−like dry, bad dates.

52- ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﺃ ﻥ ﻤﺎ ﺃﺴﻌﻰ ﻷَﺩﻨﹶﻰ ﻤ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺸ ﺔٍ ﻜﹶﻔﹶﺎﻨِﻲ، ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﻁﹾ ﻠﹸ ﺏ ﻗﹶﻠﻴلٌ ﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺎل ِ 52- Should I go for a modest life and meek.

196 “By it”: The mare. 197 The verse mentions a location, “Jemza” where such horses are bred.

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A pittance (not a kingdom) would I seek.

53- ﻭﻟﻜﻨﹼﻤﺎ ﺃﺴﻌﻰ ﻟِ ﻤ ﺠ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﺅَ ﺜﱠ لٍ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩ ﺭِ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺅ ﺜﱠ لَ ﺃﻤﺜﹶﺎﻟﻲ 53- But for greater glory I seek to claim. My sort may well attain glory and fame.

54- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀ ﻤﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﺤ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺔﹸ ﻨ ﻔ ﺴِ ﻪِ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺩ ﺭِ ﻙِ ﺃﻁﺭﺍﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﻁ ﻭ ﺏِ ﻭﻻ ﺁﻟﻲ 54- For one, as long as he remains alive, braves all, and for what’s wanted will e’er strive.

[41] ﺩ ﻉ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻙ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﺒ ﺎﹰ “Leave talk of plunder ”

Imru’ul Qays, while at refuge with Khalid b. ’Asm ca al-Nabhani, was raided by the Jabila clan who drove away the poet’s camels. He complained to his host, Khalid, who offered to retrieve his camels for him. Catching up with the raiders, Khalid hailed them “you’ve raided my neighbour!”. “You’re neighbour he’s not” they retorted. They then manhandled Khalid, pulled him down from his horse, and drove away the rest of his animals. Imru’ul Qays, disconsolate and deeply disappointed with Khalid, sought refuge with the Beni Tha’al clan. Here, he praises his new hosts:

1- ﺩ ﻉ ﻋ ﻨ ﻙ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺼِ ﻴ ﺢ ﻓﻲ ﺤﺠﺭﺍﺘِﻪ ﻭ ﻟ ﻜ ﻥ ﺤﺩﻴﺜﺎﹰ ﻤﺎ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹸ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﺍﺠِل ِ 1- Leave talk of plunder; there’s much to talk about,

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And tell of how the mounts were driven out.198

2- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺩِﺜﹶﺎﺭﺍ ً ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﻘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻋ ـُ ﻘ ﺎ ﺏ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﻓ ﻲ ﻻ ﻋ ﻘ ﺎ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻘـَﻭﺍﻋِﺩ ِ 2- As if “Dithars” camels while giving suck, by mountain, not hill eagles, were bestruck199

3- ﺘﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻌ ﺏ ﺒ ﺎ ﻋِ ﺙﹲ ﺒِ ﺫِ ﻤ ﺔِ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺩٍ ﻭﺃﻭﺩﻯ ﻋِ ﺼ ﺎ ﻡ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﻁ ﻭ ﺏِ ﺍﻷﻭﺍﺌِل ِ 3- For “Bacith” had on “Khalid’s” honour played, as he “cIsam” had, earlier on, waylaid.200

4- ﻭ ﺃ ﻋ ﺠ ﺒ ﺘﹾ ﻨ ﻲ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺯ ﻗﱠ ﺔِ ﺨ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺩٍ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﻲِ ﺃﺘﺎﻥ ﺤـﻠـّـﺌَﺕﹾ ﺒﺎﻟﻤﻨﺎﻫِل ِ 4- I like how short, pot-bellied Khalid walks. Like beast, from drinking stopp’d, th’ water hole stalks201

5- ﺃ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﺃﺠﺄ ﺃﻥ ﺘﹸ ﺴ ﻠِ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﻡ ﺠﺎﺭﻫﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺀ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﺽ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤﻘﺎﺘِل ِ 5- “`Aja” gave not whom refuge with them took. Let warriors come who could’nt denial, brook.202

6- ﺘﹶﺒﻴﺕﹸ ﻟﹶﺒﻭﻨﻲ ِ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺭ ﻴ ﺔِ ﺁ ﻤ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭﺃﺴﺭﺤﻬﺎ ﻏِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﺄ ﻜﹾ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻑِ ﺤﺎﺌِل ِ 6- My milch camels safely at th’hamlet stay. Near “Ha’il” they graze every other day.203

7- ﺒﻨﻭ ﺜﹶ ﻌ لٍ ﺠِﻴﺭﺍﻨﹸﻬﺎ ﻭﺤﻤﺎﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻊ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩٍ ﻭﻨﹶﺎﺌِل ِ

198 This refers to Khalid’s ignominious attempt to retrieve Imru’ul Qays’s camels for him. In lampooning Khalid for his ineptitude, he is highlighting the disgrace of Khalid’s own mounts being taken away from him. 199 “Dithar” was Imru’ul Qays camel herdsman. Khalid’s inept attempt he implies, was like Dithar being unwary enough when a powerful mountain eagle, as opposed to a smaller hill top one, struck a milch camel while suckling a foal. 200 “Bacith” was one of the “Jadila” clan who plundered Imru’ul Qays’s camels. Khalid, the poet’s host, in pursuit of the Jadila to retrieve the stolen animals, was accosted by Bacith, and others, who dismounted him and his men and drove away their mounts. The poet describes how Ba`ith had deceived Khalid, taking away his mounts along with the poet’s plundered camels. It is not clear who cIsam was, but the verse says that cIsam had entrapped Khalid in earlier incidents. 201 He is deriding Khalid, likening him to a beast that prevented from drinking, stalks around the water-hole disconsolate and sulking. 202 “`Aja” is the mountain homeland of the Thacal clan who gave the poet refuge earlier on. 203 Ha`il: probably the modern town of Ha`il in Saudi Arabia.

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7- The herd is guarded by “Benu Thucal, close by. Should “Sacad “and “Na`il”s’ archers let arrows fly.204

8- ﺘﹸ ﻼ ﻋِ ﺏ ﺃَ ﻭ ﻻ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻋ ﻭ ل ِ ﺭِﺒﺎﻋﻬﺎ ﺩ ﻭ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻓﻲ ﺭ ﺀ ﻭ ﺱِ ﺍﻟﻤﺠﺎﺩِل ِ 8- The herd, by tow’ring mountains, safely lay. While young camel, with young antelope, play.

9- ﻤ ﻜﹶ ﻠﱠ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺤ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺫﹶ ﺍ ﺕﹶ ﺃ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺓﹾ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺤ ﺒ ﻙ ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻭ ﺼ ﺎ ﺌِ لِ 9- Tow’ring mountains, that reddish clouds betop. Like coloured gowns, down t’flow’ry slopes, they drop.

[42] ﻴﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﻤﺎﻭﻴﻪ “O Mawiyah’s house ”

1- ﻴﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﻭ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﺤﺎﺌِلِ ﻓﺎﻟﺴﻬﺏِ ﻓﺎﻟﺨﹶﺒﺜﻴﻥِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻋﺎﻗﹶل ِ 1- O Mawiyahs house, silent at “Ha`il” stands before plains; Mount “cAqil”; and verdant lands205

2- ﺼ ﻡ ﺼﺩﺍﻫﺎ ﻭﻋﻔﹶﺎ ﺭِﺴﻤﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﻥ ﻤﻨﹾﻁِﻕ ِ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺌِل ِ 2- Mountain echoes rebound throughout its halls, Is mute and deaf to one that to it calls.

3- ﻗﻭﻻ ﻟِ ﺩ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥِ ﻋﺒِﻴﺩ ﺍﻟﻌﺼﺎ ﻤﺎ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷَ ﺴ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﺒﺎﺴِل ِ 3- Ask “Dawdan”; slaves stick-driv’n with angry cries “What made you ‘gainst the valiant lion rise”?206

4- ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺍﻟﻌﻴﻨﺎﻥِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻙِ ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻋﻤﺭﻭ، ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻜﺎﻫِل ِ

204 The Benu Thacal were the poet’s allies and protectors, “Sa`ad” and “Na`il” were of the Beni Nabhan; the previously mentioned “Khalid’s” clan. 205 Mount “cAqil”: at Yamama. 206 Dawdan: A clan of the Beni Assad who revolted against the authority of the Poet’s father, Hujr.

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4- In joy my eyes rest with vengeance sweet. “Malik cAmr”; “Kahil” did their dire end meet.207

5- ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻏﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻡِ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺩ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻨﹶﻘﹾﺫِﻑ ﺃ ﻋ ﻼ ﻫ ﻡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﻓِ لِ 5- Sons of “Ghanm’” bin “Dawdan” in ire we slew. Their highest ‘pon their lowest down we threw.

6- ﻨﹶ ﻁﹾ ﻌ ﻨﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﺴﻠﹾﻜﻰ ﻭ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﻠ ﻭ ﺠ ﺔﹰ ﻟِ ﻔﹶ ﺘﹾ ﻙ ﻷْ ﻤ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻨ ﺎ ﺒِ لِ 6- We struck them straight, parried left and right With shafts returned for shafts, when archers fight.

7- ﺍﺫ ﻫ ﻥ ﺍﻗﹾﺴﺎﻁﹲ ﻜﹶﺭِﺠل ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺒ ﻲِ ﺃﻭ ﻜﹶﻘﹶﻁﺎ ﻜﺎﻅِﻤﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﻫِ لِ 7- Like locust swarms, steeds were thick ‘pon the fray, as thirsty birds to water wing their way.

8- ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﻨ ﺎ ﻫ ﻡ ﻟﹶﺩﻯ ﻤ ﻌ ﺭ ﻙٍ ﺃ ﺭ ﺠ ﻠﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺌِ لِ 8- We heaped their dead whose legs, after a while, Looked like a steadily rising woodpile.

9- ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺕﹾ ﻟﹶﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﻤ ﺭ ﺃً ﻋ ﻥ ﺸﹸﺭﺒِﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺸﹸ ﻐﹾ لٍ ﺸﹶﺎﻏِل ٍ 9- To wine! Now that I have the battle won, I’d abstained till my deadly deed was done.208

10- ﻓﺎﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﺃﺴﻘﻰ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻘِ ﺏٍ ﺇ ﺜﹾ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﷲِ ﻭ ﻻﹶ ﻭﺍﻏِل ِ 10- Now guiltless, I alone of drink partake. And ne’er into others’ drink-sessions, break.209

[43] ﺤ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻤ ﻭ لَ ﺒِ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺯ لِ

207 “Malik”, “cAmr”, “Kahil”- Beni Assad clans the Poet wreaked vengeance on for his father’s murder. 208 When told of his father’s murder, he vowed never to take wine till he wreaked vengeance on the Beni Assad, his father’s slayers. 209 Now that he had had his vengeance, he feels absolved of his guilt, his guilt being his vengeance left unfulfilled. His passions for vengeance now satisfied, he wishes to drink alone; and is disinclined to intrude into others’ drinking circles.

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“Howdah and pack camels at cAzl ”210 Describing his camel at an early stage, when still a boy.

1- ﺤ ﻲ ﺍﻟﺤﻤﻭلَ، ﺒ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺯ لِ ﺇﺫ ﻻ ﻴ ﻼ ﺌِ ﻡ ﺸﹶﻜﹾﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺸﹶﻜﹾﻠِﻲ 1- Howdah and pack camels, by cAzl, recline. So incongruous is their state from nine.

2- ﻤﺎﺫﺍ ﻴ ﺸﹸ ﻕﹼ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻙ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻅﹸﻌﻥ ٍ ﺇ ﻻﹼ ﺼِﺒﺎﻙ، ﻭ ﻗِ ﻠﱠ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﻌﻘـْـل ِ 2- What, from travelling with them, holds you back? Except what you in maturity, lack.?211

3- ﻤﻨﻴﺘﻨﺎ ﺒِﻐﹶﺩٍ، ﻭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻏﹶ ﺩٍ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺒﺨِﻠﹾﺕِ، ﻜﺄﺴﻭﺃ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺨﹾ لِ 3- For t’ morrow, and a day, you’ve made me yearn But worst of misers all, in th’end, you’ve turned.212

4- ﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻏ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺼ ﺭ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﺤِﺒﺎﻟﹶﻬﺎ، ﻭ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﺘﹼ ﺌ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭِﺴـﻠﻲ ِ 4- O for a belle who from oth’rs turned away. In slow’st steps I would towards her sway.

5- ﻻ ﺃﺴﺘﹶﻘِﻴﺩ، ﻟِ ﻤ ﻥ ﺩﻋﺎ ﻟِ ﺼِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ، ﻗِﺴﺭﺍﹰ، ﻭ ﻻﹶ ﺃﺼﻁﺎﺩ ﺒﺎﻟﺨِﺘﹾل ِ 5- For I will not, through force, to love be wed. Nor through deceit to hunt e’er will be led.

6- ﻭﺘﹶﻨﹸﻭﻓﹶﺔﹾ ﺠﺭﺩﺍﺀ ﻤ ﻬ ﻠﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺔٍ ﺠﺎﻭﺯﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﺒِ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺏٍ ﻗـُـﺘـْـل ِ 6- Distant barren waste lands, fatal to all I’ve crossed on ped’gree camels, stout and tall.

7- ﻓﹶ ﻴ ﺒِ ﺘﹾ ﻥ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﺴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻭﺃﺒِﻴﺕﹸ ﻤﺭﺘﹶﻔِﻘﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭ ﺤ ﻠ ﻲِ 7- O’er night they crop whate’er they find the best . While I, on th’ saddle- frame, my elbows rest.

210 cAzl: a location, a caravan station. 211 The verse identifies his own immatuirity as: his boyhood, and “his small” (inexperienced) mind. 212 He is addressing the camel station, expressing his yearning for travel which the camel station has denied him.

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8- ﻤ ﺘ ﻭ ﺴِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻋ ﻀ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻤ ﻀ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒ ﻪ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﺩ ﺒ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﻤل ِ 8- A sword for pillow, sharp- edged; wide its blade, It’s grooves like trails that crawling ants had made.

9- ﻴ ﺩﻋﻰ ﺼ ﻘ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﻭ ﻫ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻋ ﻬ ﺩ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﻭ ﻴ ﻪٍ ﻭﻻ ﺼﻘﹾل ِ 9- They call swords “burnished” ! But this sword of mine of “burnishing” has never shown a sign.

10- ﻋ ﻔﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺍﻟﺩِﻴﺎﺭ ﻓﻤﺎ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺃﻫﻠﻲ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺕﹾ ﺸﹸ ﻤ ﻭ ﺱ ﺒ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﺒﺫل ِ 10- Ruined home! my folk there no longer live. And gloom rebuffs what they no longer give.

11- ﻨﹶﻅﹶﺭﺕ ﺇ ﻟ ﻴ ﻙ ﺒِ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥٍ ﺠ ﺎ ﺯِ ﺌَ ﺔٍ ﺤ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺤﺎﻨﻴﺔﹾ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻁِﻔﹾل ِ 11- And I looked upon the abode, now gone with the full loving eye of hind for faun.

12- ﻓﻠﻬﺎ ﻤﻘﹶﻠـﺩﻫﺎ ﻭ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﻭﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻭ ﺓﹸ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﻀل ِ 12- I, like hind, with fullest throat and eye show such loving care; that none can deny.

13- ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﺒ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺼِ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺠ ﻌ ﻨ ﻲ ﺤﻠـْﻤِﻲ ﻭ ﺴ ﺩ ﺩ ﻟﻠﺘﻘﺭﺍﺭ ﻓَِﻌـﻠﻲ 13- Amorous ways of pleasure I forsook My mind awak’d, so paths of wisdom took.

14- ﺍﷲ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﺠ ﺢ ﻤﺎ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺒ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻭﺍﻟﺒِﺭ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺤﻘِﻴﺒﺔِ ﺍﻟﺭﺤـل ِ 14- With what I need, ‘tis God who best equips. Good deeds are th’best supplies in saddle-scrips.

15- ﻭﻤﻥ ﺍﻟﻁﺭﻴﻘﺔِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺭ ﻭ ﻫ ﺩ ﻯ ﻗﹶ ﺼ ﺩ ﺍﻟﺴﺒﻴلِ ﻭ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﺫﹸﻭ ﺩ ﺨﹾ لِ 15- One; keeps to Right’s straightest and narrow road. Another; falls, weighted with deprav’ty’s load.

16- ﺇﻨﻲ ﻷ ﺼ ﺭِ ﻡ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﻤ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭ ﺃُ ﺠِ ﺩ ﻭ ﺼ لَ ﻤ ﻥ ﺃﺒﺘﹶﻐﻰ ﻭﺼﻠﻲ 16- I forsake those who shy from me and spurn

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And turn to those whose ‘ffections to me turn.

17- ﻭﺃﺨِﻲ ﺇ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﺫﻱ ﻤ ﺤ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺔٍ ﺴ ﻬ لِ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﻠﻴﻘﺔِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺩٍ ﺍﻷﺼل ِ 17- A broth’r is one who’ll stand for the forlorn. One who’s well-natured, well-mannered, well-born.

18- ﺤﻠﹾﻭٍ، ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺠِ ﺌ ﺕﹶ ﻗ ﺎ لَ ﺃﻻ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺤ ﺏِ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹶ ﻭﻤﻨﹾﺯِل ِ ﺍﻟﺴﻬل ِ 18- Who’s sweet; who if to his house you e’er come He’ll cry out: “you’re most and truly welcome”

19- ﻨ ﺎ ﺯ ﻋ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻜ ﺄ ﺱ ﺍﻟﺼﺒﻭﺡ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺠ ﻬ ـ لْ ﻤ ﺠِ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﻋِ ﺫ ﺭ ﺓِ ﺍﻟﺭﺠـل ِ 19- With him at drink, and he with drink high-blown, him I excuse; his surfeit I’ll condone.

20- ﺇﻨﻲ ﺒِ ﺤ ﺒ ـْ ـ ﻠﹶ ﻙ ﻭ ﺍ ﺼِ لٌ ﺤﺒﻠِﻲ ﻭ ﺒِ ﺭ ﻴ ﺵِ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺭ ﺍ ﺌ ﺵﹲ ﻨﹶﺒﻠﻲ 20- With your twine, mine I will so entwine, With your arrows’ feathers, I’ll feather mine.

21- ﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃَ ﺠِ ﺩ ﻙ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻫﺩﻯ ﺃ ﺜﹶ ﺭٍ ﻴﻘﺭﻭ ﻤ ﻘﹶ ﺼ ﻙ ﻗ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻑﹲ ﻗﹶﺒﻠﻲ 21- Your footprints I’ll in best of faith follow Unless o’ertak’n by some other fellow.

22- ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻠ ﻲ ﻤﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻜِ ﻼ ﺒ ﻙ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻗ ﺎﹰ ﻤِﺜﹾﻠﻲ 22- What’s good in me you have well-known, and marked At night call’r like me, your dogs have nev’r barked.

[44] ﻭ ﺍ ﺜﹸ ﻌ ﻼﹰ “O Thucal ” In praise of Beni Tha`al

1- ﻭﺍ ﺜ ـُ ﻌ ﻼﹰ ﺇ ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤِﻨﹼﻲ ﺒﻨﻭ ﺜ ـُ ﻌ لْ ﺃﻻ ﺤ ﺒﺫﺍ ﻗ ﻭ ﻡ ﻴ ﺤ ﻠﱡ ﻭ ﻥ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ لْ 1- O Thucal! and where, so far from me, are they.

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I wish to these their mounts they’d come and stay.213

2- ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻋﻤﺭﻭ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺩ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﺒ ﻠﹾ ﻁﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻡ ﻤﺎ ﺠﺎﺭ ٍ ﻭﻴﺎ ﺤ ﺴ ﻥ ﻤﺎ ﻓ ـَ ﻌ ـَ لْ 2- At “cAmr Dermaa’s” fine house I once had stayed . So generous! So fine the fare he laid.

3- ﺘﹶ ﻅ لﱡ ﻟﹶﺒﻭﻨﻲ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺠ ﻭ ٍ ﻭﻤِﺴﻁـَﺢ ٍ ﺘﹸﺭﺍﻋِﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﺥﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺠ لْ 3- My milch camels ‘tween “Jaww” and “Mistah” raise their young, who with land-fowl, together graze .

4- ﻤﺎ ﺯ ﺍ لَ ﻋﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻌ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﻘ ﺴ ﻴ ﻬ ـِ ﻡ ﻴﺫﻭﺩﻭﻨﻬﺎ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺃَ ﻗﹸ ﻭ لَ ﻟﻬﻡ ﺒِ ﺠ لْ 4- Herdsmen I have who for the herd do care so much, that I tell them their care to spare214

5- ﻓ ﺄ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺍﻟﻌِﺒﺎﺩ ﻭﻁـَﻴﺌﺎ ً ﻭ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﺃَﻨﱢﻲ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻜِ ﺭ ﻟِ ﺒ ﻨ ﻲ ﺜـُﻌـل ِ 5- To “Macad”; “cIbad”; “Kinda”, and Tayy proclaim: That I to “Thucal” e’er thankfull shall remain215

[45] ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻡ ﻟ ﻠ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻡِ ﻤ ﺤ لْ “As honoured guest with honoured host I stayed ”

1- ﺃ ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺭﺤﻠﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺜﹸ ﻌ لٍ ﺇﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜ ﺭ ﻴ ﻡ ﻟ ﻠ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻡِ ﻤ ﺤ لْ 1- As guest my gear at “Tha`als” abobe I laid. As honoured guest with honoured hosts I stayed.

2- ﻭ ﺠ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺎﺱ ِ ﻜـُـﻠـّﻬِﻡ ِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺃﻭﻓﹶﺎﻫﻡ ﺃﺒﺎ ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﺒ لْ 2- Of all good folk and neighbours true and fine “Abu Hanbal” did his fine peers outshine.

3- ﻭ ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﺭ ﺒ ﻬ ﻡ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺃَ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻫ ﻡ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﺃ ﺴ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﻫ ﻡ ﻓﻼ ﻴ ﺒ ﺨﹶ لْ

213 “their mounts” refers to mounts “Aja” and “Sulma” in the Tayy homelands. 214 His over-zealous herdsmen drive, tend and keep the herd; driving away anyone anywhere near the animals. They are so conscientious that he has to tell them “Enough! Do not over do it”. 215 “Macad”: A clan of the Beni Assad. “cIbad”: a clan of Beni Temim.

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3- To good so close, so far from being mean. Gen’rous when folk and times are hard and lean.

[46] ﻤ ﻥ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻴ ﺄ ﻤ لْ “Who hopes” 1- ﻤﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﻴ ﺄ ﻤ لُ ﻋ ﻘﹾ ﺭ ﺩﺍﺭﻱ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃ ﻫ لِ ﺍﻷﻭﺩ، ﺒِﻬﺎ، ﻭﺫﻱ ﺍﻟﺫﺤـل ِ 1- Who hopes, in my domain, himself to show. Once was fast friend, now fierce and fighting foe.

2- ﻓﹶﻠﹾﻴﺄﺕِ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﻗِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺨﹶﻴﻠﻲ ﻭﻟﹾﻴﺄﺕِ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﺴِ ﻪِ ﺭﺠﻠﻲ 2- My cavalry he’ll face round his domed tent. Let his host come; it will by mine be rent.

3- ﻴﺎ ﻫ لْ ﺃ ﺘ ﺎ ﻙ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺤ ﺩ ﺙﹸ ﺫﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﻡِ ﻤ ﺴ ﻤ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﺩﺨﹾل ِ 3- Will he approach? Yet one cannot deny that friendship stirs what deep in man does lie.216

4- ﺃﻨﹼﻲ ﻟﹶﻌﻤﺭﻱ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻨﺘﹶﻤﻴﺕﹸ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﻋ ﺩِ لْ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺒﺩل ٍ ﻭﻻ ﻤِﺜـْـل ِ 4- I’ve never with others threw in my lot. Nor am, with appeasing others, besot.

5- ﻷﺥ ٍ ﺭ ﻀ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ـِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻙ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻷ ﻨ ﺴ ﺎ ﺏِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻷ ﺼ ﻬ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻭﺍﻟﻔﹶﻀل ِ 5- Except brothers with whom I’m quite content. Who with me share, good birth, deed, and intent.

6- ﻭ ﻟِ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﺃ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏٍ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻘﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻴ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻕٍ ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃَﺯل ِ 6- To such, in faith am I so closely tied. Faith that wards off hardship from ev’ry side.

7- ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺴﻤﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻴﻥ ِ ﺃ ﻗ ﺭ ﻥ ﻓـﺎﻟـ ﺃ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎ لِ ﻗﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ: ﻓِ ﺩ ﺍ ﺅ ﻩ ﺃﻫﻠﻲ ِ 7- Faith rose ‘tween “Aqrun” and “’Ajbal”. Said I: “For such fine faith I’d let my fam’ly die”217

216 He implies that the foe attacking him today may well have been his friend of yesterday; and that one cannot predict how one will conduct oneself in such a situation.

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8- ﻫ ﻡ ﺴ ﻴ ﺒ ﻠﹸ ﻐﹸ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺘﱠﻤﺎﻡ ﻓﹶﺫﹶﺍ ﻅﹶﻨﹼﻲ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺴ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ لُ ﺃﻭ ﻴﺒﻠِﻲ 8- Care would, to its, foregone conclusion come. I fear it would away with me have done.

9- ﻭﺃﺘﻰ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻏﹶﻁﹶﻔﺎﻥ، ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻠ ﻭ ﺍ ، ﺩ ﻴ ﻥ ﻴ ﺠ ﺊُ ﻭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺏ ﻤﺠـِل ِ 9- On “” fell this worrisome curse. It’s folk, from home did in anguish disperse.

10- ﻭ ﻴ ﺤ ﺵﱡ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘِ ﺩ ﺭِ ﻴﻭﻗِﺩﻫﺎ ﺒِﻐﹶﻀﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻑِ ﻓ ﺄ ﺠ ﻤ ﻌ ﺕﹾ ﺜﹶﻐﹾﻠِﻲ 10- Cauldron!, kindled below with ire and toil With hardwood stoked, the pot was brought to boil.

[47] ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺩﺍﻡ “Drinking”

1- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻡ ﻭ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻤﺎﻡِ ﻭ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﺍﻟﺨﹸﺯﺍﻤﻰ ﻭ ﺫﹶ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺴ لْ 1- As if fine wine; and rain pouring down in haste. And scent of flow’r, and honey’s dulcet taste,

2- ﻴ ﻌ لﱡ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺒ ﺭ ﺩ ﺃﻨﹾﻴﺎﺒِﻬﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺠ ﻡ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﺍﻟﺴﻤﺎﺀِ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹶ لْ 2- All on the cool pearl of her teeth were sent. When stars up to th’ heavens made their ascent.

[48] ﺼﻤﻲ ﺍ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ لِ “List’n not, echoes” Recited when he grudgingly asked for the Beni cAdwan for refuge after his fathers’ murder.

217 A fast and lasting friendship was struck between these two locations.

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1- ﺒ ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻭ ﺍ ﺌِ لٍ ﻭ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﻋ ﺩ ﻭ ﺍ ﻥ ﻭﻓﹶﻬﻤﺎﹰ، ﺼﻤﻲ ﺍ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ لِ 1- “Adwan”s “Fahm’s favours ask I’d rather not. List’n not, echoes, “Wa’il’n Kinda are the top.218

2- ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﻴ ﺤ ﺎ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﺒﺎﻟﺒِﻬﺎﻡِ ﻭ ﻨِ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥ ﻗِ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﻜﹶﻬﻴﺌَﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺠ لِ 2- To el’quence they reply with snort and growl Small eagles they, their stature that of fowl

[49] ﺃَ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻋﺎﺼِﻤﺎ “Tell Shihab and cAsim” Addressing Shihab b. Shaddad b. Thcalaba; and cAsim b. cUbayd b. Thcalaba.

1- ﺃَ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺸِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺃ ﺒ ﻠ ﻎﹾ ﻋﺎﺼِﻤﺎ ﻭﻤﺎﻟِﻜﺎﹰ ﻫل ﺃﺘﺎﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﻤﺎل ِ؟ 1- Tell “Shihab”, “cAsim” and “Malik” as well. Have they been told of what had them befell?

2- ﺇﻨﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻜﹾﻨﹶﺎ ﻤِﻨﻜﹸﻡ ﻗﹶﺘﹾﻠﻰ ﺒِﺨﹶﻭﻋﻰ ﻭﺴﺒﻴﺎﹰ ﻜﺎﻟﺴﻌﺎﻟﻲِ 2- At “Khawca” we left your injured and dead. As ghastly ghouls your captives we had led.

3- ﻴ ﻤ ﺸ ﻴ ﻥ ﺤﻭل ﺭِﺤﺎﻟِﻨﹶﺎ ﻤﻌﺘﹶﺭِﻓﺎﺕ ٍ ﻤﺎ ﺒِﺠﻭﻉ ٍ ﻭﻫﺯﺍل ِ 3- Around our saddling, wretch’dly do they walk So hungry, lean,’n mis`rable; they sulk and gawk.

“Shihab” replied to this lampoon as follows:

1- ﻟِ ﻡ ﺘﹶﺴﺒﻨﺎ ﻴﺎ ﺍﻤﺭﺃ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻴﺱ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺄ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻙ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃﻫل ﻭﻤﺎل ِ 1- O Imru’ul Qays! Why slander us so? Your folk and wealth we took in whiles ago.

218 He resents asking the inferior “cAdwan” and “Fahm” clans for hospitality. He addresses the mountain echoes to stop their ears as he calls out to the two clans requesting their assistance; as he holds them to be far below his own tribe of Kinda in birth.

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2- ﺫ ﺍ ﻙ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﻡ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻜِﻨﹾﺩِﻴﺔﹰ ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺒِ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﺒِ ﻭ ﺠ ﻪٍ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺠِ ﻌ ﺎ ل ِ 2- That; and many a blackened Kindite hag. Meets people with face like soiled’n tatt’red rag.

3- ﻗﺎﻴﻅﹾﻨﹶﻨﺎ ﻴ ﺄْ ﻜﹸ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﻓِﻴﻨﺎ ﻗِ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭ ﻤ ﺤ ﺭ ﻭ ﺙﹶ ﺍﻟﺨﹸﻤﺎل ِ 3- With us they’ve stayed for spells long, dry and hot. With us shared dried meat ’n roots; else we had not.

4- ﺃﻴﺎﻡ ﺼﺒﺤﻨﹶﺎﻜﹸﻡ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻤ ﻭ ﻤ ﺔﹰ ﻜﺄَﻨﱠﻤﺎ ﻨﹸ ﻁﱢ ﻘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﺯ ﻡِ ﺁ لِ 4- You we’ve attacked in but one morning raid, With host close-packed as hardest ground is laid.219

5- ﻤ ﻥ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﻗﺒﺎﺀ ﺘﹶﻌﺩﻭ ﺍﻟﻭﻜﹶﺭﻯ ﺇﺫ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨ ﻴ لُ ﺒﺎﻟﻘﹶﻭﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺜِ ﻘ ﺎ لِ 5- Our doughty steeds, at charge so swift and straight. That pant under their heavy armoured weight.

[50] ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﻏﹸﻭلٌ “Time is but a ghoul” In reproach of Time

1- ﺃ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃُ ﺨﹾ ﺒِ ﺭ ﻙ ﺃﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﻏﹸ ﻭ لٌ ﺨﹶ ﺘﹸ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻬ ﺩِ ﻴ ﻠﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻬِ ﻡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺠ ﺎ ﻻﹶ 1- Have I not said that Time is mean and dour. A ghoul that does good men and true devour.

2- ﺃَ ﺯ ﺍ لَ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺼﺎﻨِﻊ ِ ﺫﺍ ﺭِﻴﺎﺵ ٍ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻤ ﻠﹶ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻬ ﻭ ﻟ ـَ ﺔﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﺒ ﺎ ﻻ َ 2- It, “Dhil Riyash”, from his domains had swept220 Both mountains and plains were in his kingdom kept.

219 Hardest ground refers to a specific location; the hard rocky ground round Mount “’Al”. 220 “It”, throughout these lines, refers to Time. “Dhil Riyash” an ancient King of Yemen.

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3- ﻫ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡ ﻁﹶ ﺤ ﻁﹶ ﺢ ﺍﻵﻓﺎﻕﹶ ﻭ ﺤ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻭﺴﺎﻕﹶ ﺍﻟﻰ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﻗِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺍﻟﺭﻋﺎﻻﹶ 3- It’s inspired will into th’horizons strives. To eastern ends, it, conq’ring vanguards drives.

4- ﻭ ﺴ ﺩ ﺒ ﺤ ﻴ ﺙﹸ ﺘﹶﺭﻗﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺱ ﺴ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻟِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺠ ﻭ ﺝٍ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠ ﻭ ﺝ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﺒ ﺎ ﻻﹶ 4- Up to the sun it rises as a wall. Up th’mountains, it “Gog”, “Magog” hords did forestall.221

5- ﻓ ﺈ ﻥ ﺘﹶﻬﻠِﻙ ﺸﹶ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﺀ ﺓﹸ ﺃﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺩ لْ ﻓﹶﺴِﻴﺭِﻱ ﺇ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻏﹶ ﺴ ﺎ ﻥ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﻻﹶ 5- Time may “Shanu`a” fell, or may displace. It’ll show “Ghassan” as th’avuncular race222

6- ﺒ ﻌ ﺯ ﻫِ ﻡِ ﻋ ﺯ ﺯ ﺕﹶ ﻓﹶ ﺈ ﻥ ﻴﺫِﻟـّﻭﺍ ﻓﹶ ـ ﺫ ﻟ ـّ ـ ﻜ ـُ ﻡ ﺃﻨﹶﺎﻟﹶﻙ ﻤﺎ ﺃﻨﹶﺎﻻ 6- Their glory, Time, is yours. If they’re in shame, the shame is yours; you’ll have yourself to blame.

[51] ﻋﻴﻨﹶﺎﻙ ﺩﻤﻌﻬﻤﺎ ﺴِﺠﺎ لُ “Free-flowing are your tears”

1- ﻋﻴﻨﹶﺎﻙ ﺩﻤﻌﻬﻤﺎ ﺴِ ﺠ ﺎ لُ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺸﹶﺄﻨﹶﻴﻬِﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺎ لُ 1- Free-flowing are your tears, as though your eyes were tear-ducts that with channels vie in size.

2- ﺍﻭ ﺠ ﺩ ﻭ لٌ ﻓﻲ ﻅِ ﻼ لِ ﻨﹶ ﺨﹾ لٍ ﻟ ﻠ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻤ ﺠ ﺎ لُ 2- As though your eyes were streams by palmy shade whose flowing courses wide and deep are made.

3- ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﻟﹶﻴﻠﻰ، ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﻟﹶﻴﻠﻰ ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤﺎ ﺭ ﻤ ﺕﹶ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﺎ لُ 3- O Layla’s folk! And where might Layla be? So very far out of your reach is she.

221 Time rises like a mountain-wall up to the Sun, blocking the advance of the devastating hords of “Gog”, “Magog”; a legendary race who indulged in orgies of sweeping destruction. 222 Time may do away with the “Shanu`a”, a tribe of Yemini origins and show “Ghassan” as the paternal uncle of other tribal peoples.

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4- ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﻁﹶ ﻊ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﺽ ﻭﻫﻲ ﻗﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﻭﺼﺎﺤِﺒﻲ ﺒ ﺎ ﺯِ لٌ ﺸِ ﻤ ﻼ لُ 4- O’er lifeless barren ground I range alone on camel that to th’age of nine had grown.

5- ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻋِ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻡ ﺃَﺒﺠـﻠـُﻬﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺤﺎﺭِﻜﹶﻬﺎ ﺃُ ﺜﹶ ﺎ لُ 5- ’Tis swift and smooth, its veins in deep flesh lie. It’s shoulder blades, as mount “Uthal”, rise high.

6- ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﺩ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﺏ ﺘﹶ ﻠﹸ ﻔﱡ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﻭﺍﻟﻅـﱢﻼلُ 6- A loner, like an ag’d rogue bull, unkept. By howling wind, and drizzle, is beswept.

7- ﻜﺄﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﺯ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﻥِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩٍ ﺘﹶﻌﺩﻭ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃُ ﻓ ﺭِ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺯﺍلُ 7- As swift as distressed hind that’s lost its young; that darts about, in nervous speed upstrung.

8- ﻋﺩﻭﺍﹰ، ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺒ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺃﺒﻭﺍﻋﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻔِ ﺯ ﻩ ﺃ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻉ ﻋِ ﺠ ﺎ لُ 8- A pace-setter; its strides are widely spaced. Propelled by legs that fast forwardly race.

9- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺌ ﻁٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻫ ﺒ ﻁﹶ ﺕﹸ ﻭﺤﺩِﻱ ﻟ ﻠ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨ ﻭ ﻓِ ﻪِ ﺃَ ﺠ ﺌِ ﻼﹶ لُ 9- Alone, through wide, low lying land, I crossed. My heart, with awesome fears, was shak’n and tossed.

10- ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺭﺒِﻴﻊ ﺼ ﻴ ﻑﹲ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﻗﹸ ﺭ ﻴ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎ لُ 10- Down ‘pon this land poured summer rains in floods. It’s streamlets coloured rich, as “Hira’s” goods.223

11- ﺘﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺩ ﻤ ﻨ ﻲ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﺩ ﺓﹲ ﺴ ﺒ ﻭ ﺡ ﺼـﻠـﱠﺒﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺽ ﻭﺍﻟﺤِﻴﺎلُ 11- I proceed upon a fine, pedigree mare unfoaled. She’s hard; dry grass her only fare.

12- ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻨﱠ ﻬ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻘﹾ ﻭ ﺓﹲ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺏ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺨﹸﺭﻁﹸﻭﻤﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﺸﹶ ﺎ لُ

223 The Lakhmite capital, Hira, was known for its richly coloured artifacts and wares.

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12- Bird-like is she, her head a magpie’s beak that picks like tweezers, ‘s does a hectic freak.

13- ﺘﹸ ﻁﹾ ﻌِ ﻡ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺨ ﺎﹰ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺼ ﻐ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺃَﺯﺭﻯ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻉ ﻭﺍﻹﺤﺜﹶﺎلُ 13- She’s like those birds their hectic lives that lead. So hard at work their famished chicks to feed.

14- ﻗﹸ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺏ ﺨِ ﺯ ﺍ ﻥِ ﺫﻱ ﺃ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ لٍ ﻗﹸ ﻭ ﺘ ﺎﹰ ﻜﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺭ ﺯ ﻕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺎ لُ 14- Such birds their chicks do spoil with choicest fare:- The succulant hearts of prime “Awral” hare.224

15- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕِ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭ ﺍ ﻥٍ ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺃﺴﺭﺍﺒﻬﺎ ﺭِ ﻋ ﺎ لُ 15- I raided with whole battalions of horse. It’s squads were vanguards leading on th’ main force

16- ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻨﱠ ﻬ ﻡ ﺤ ﺭ ﺸﹶ ﻑﹲ ﻤﺒﺜﹸﻭﺙﹲ ﺒِﺎﻟﺠﻭ ﺇﺫ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﹼ ﻌ ﺎ لُ 16- With th’ raiding horsemen tense I was and tight Shoed hoofs shone bright; ‘s locust wings in sunlight.

17- ﺼﺒﺤﺘﹶﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺫﺍ ﺼ ﺒ ﺎ ﺡٍ ﻓﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻫ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺭﺠﺎلُ 17- Their camps we struck hard, on a bright day’s morn For men, death. Th’ rest were, ’way as captives borne.

[52] ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺭ ﺏ ﺃﻭل ﻤﺎ ﺘﻜﻭﻥ “War is, at first” Describing war and its dire sequels:

1- ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺭ ﺏ ﺃ ﻭ لَ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﻜ ﻭ ﻥ ﻓﹸ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺘﹶﺒﺩﻭ ﺒِﺯِﻴﻨﹶﺘِﻬﺎ ﻟِ ﻜﹸ لّ ﺠ ﻬ ﻭ ل ِ 1- War is, at first, so like a pretty girl. Whose luring charms to simple minds unfurl.

224 “Awral”: plateau, higher ground. The comparison between his mare and predatory birds serves to show the horse as an over-energetic hunter.

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2- ﺤ ﻲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺕﹾ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﺏ ﻀﺭﺍﻤﻬﺎ ﻋ ﺎ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﻋ ﺠ ﻭ ﺯ ﺍﹰ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺫﺍﺕ ﺤﻠﻴل ِ 2- But as it grinds away, its fires at rage, it turns to a manless hag bent with age.

3- ﺸﹶﻤﻁﹶﺎﺀ ﺠﺯﺕ ﺭﺃﺴﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻜﹼ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﻫ ﺔﹰ ﻟِﻠﹾﺸﱠﻡ ِ ﻭﺍﻟﺘﹶﻘﹾﺒﻴل ِ 3- Her hair turned white. How she has grown so old. Hideous; loathsome is she to kiss and hold.

[53] ﻭ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘ ﻠﹾ ﺌِ ﻡٍ “An armoured knight”

1- ﻭ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺌِ ﻡٍ ﻜﹶ ﺸﱠ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒﺎﻟﺭﻤﺢِ ﺼ ﺩ ﺭ ﻩ ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻌ ﻀ ﺏٍ ﺴ ﻔ ﺎ ﺴِ ﻕﹶ ﺫﻱ ﻤ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﻪ 1- An armoured knight my lance his chest laid bare. My fluted sword his stature down did tear.

2- ﻓﹶ ﺠ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻓﻲ ﻤﻠﺘﹶﻘﹶﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﻪ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻨﺎﻕ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻴﺭِ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺠِ لُ ﺤ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻪ 2- In th’ lists his grieved horsemen I left to weep. Vultures were left about their fare to leap.

[54] ﻟﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺩِﻴﺎﺭ “To whom do these homelands belong” Here he lampoons Subacy b. cAwf. b. Malik b. Handhala; one of the Beni Tuhya. Imru’ul Qays had approached him with a request which was declined. Subacy then recited derogatory verses vilifying him, and Imru’ul Qays retorted as follows:

1- ﻟِ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﺎﺭ ﻏﹶﺸﹶﻴﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﺒِ ﺴ ﺤ ﺎ ﻡ ِ ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﻤ ﺎ ﻴ ﺘ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻓﹶ ﻬ ﻀ ﺏٍ ﺫﻱ ﺃﻗﹾﺩﺍﻡ ِ 1- To whom had these “Siham” home lands belonged?

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With which “cAmya”`s, the heights; “`Iqdam” are thronged?225

2- ﻓﹶﺼﻔﺎ ﺍ ﻷَ ﻁِ ﻴ ﻁِ ﻓﹶﺼﺎﺤﺘﹶﻴﻥِ ﻓﹶ ﻐ ﺎ ﻀِ ﺭٍ ﺘﹶﻤﺸﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨِ ﻌ ﺎ ﺝ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻤﻊ ﺍﻵﺭﺍﻡ ِ 2- “Safa”; “’Atit”; “Sahatayn”; “Ghadere”, Ewes ‘n white deer once walked together there

3- ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﻟِ ﻬِ ﻨﹾ ﺩٍ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﺒﺎﺏِ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺱ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩِ ﺙِ ﺍ ﻷَﻴﺎﻡ ِ 3- There “Hind”; “Rabab”; ”Fertna”; “Lamees” lived once. Before time’s turns’s us all did cru’lly trounce226

4- ﻋﻭﺠﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻠﹶل ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺤِ ﻴ لِ ﻷﻨﹼﻨﹶﺎ ﻨﹶﺒﻜِﻲ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﺎﺭ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﺒﻜﹶﻰ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥ ﺨِﺫﺍﻡ ِ 4- Steer your mounts t’wards these ruin’d abodes of yore To weep there ‘s “Ibn Khitham” did long before.227

5- ﺃﻭ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺃ ﻅ ﻌ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﺒ ﻭ ﺍ ﻜِ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻜﺎﻟﻨﹼﺨﹾلِ ﻤِﻥ ﺸ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺤ ﻴ ﻥ ﺼِﺩﺍﻡ ِ 5- Their swaying howdahs, early to be seen Hued, ‘s “Shawkan” dates that ready t’pick have been.228

6- ﺤ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺘﹸ ﻌ ﻠﱠ لُ ﺒﺎﻟﻌﺒﻴﺭِ ﺠﻠﻭﺩﻫﺎ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺽ ﺍﻟﻭﺠﻭ ﻩِ ﻨ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋِ ﻡ ﺍﻷﺠﺴﺎﻡ ِ 6- With perfume, houries well their skins o’ersooth. Their faces fair; their bodies soft and smooth229.

7- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻓﻲ ﺩِﻤﻥ ِ ﺍﻟﺩﻴﺎﺭِ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻨﻲ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻥ ﺒ ﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻩ ﺼ ﺒ ﻭ ﺡ ﻤﺩﺍﻡ ِ 7- For long whiles at th’ ruins I lingered on. Bedazed, as if, in drink quite high I’d gone.

8- ﺃُ ﻨﹸ ﻑٍ ﻜﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﻥِ ﺩ ﻡِ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺯﺍلِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺘﱠ ﻕٍ ﻤ ﻥ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻋ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺍﻭ ﻜﹸ ﺭ ﻭ ﻡِ ﺸﹶﺒﺎﻡ ِ

225 “Siham”; the two “cAmyas”, “Iqdam” are mountainous heights. He sees that these homelands have changed hands. They are now occupied by the Beni Tuhya. Formerly they were the abode of several women he loved. 226 “Hind” et al….. women he once loved who now have been brutally scattered by events. 227 Ibn Khitham: The one who preceded Imru’ul Qays in lamenting the ruined abodes of loved ones. 228 Shawkan: a location in ‘al-Yemen known for its fine palms. The howdahs are tall as palms, and as highly coloured. The green palms are also red and yellow in their dates at harvest time. 229 Houri: the ultimate in female beauty. The beauty of a houri lies in her eyes: the pure whiteness of the eye’s white co-existing with a jet-black pupil. The houries here refer to the women who once lived in the abodes described here, now in ruins.

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8- As if I’d drunk wine, red as blood of deer, from “cAna” ‘n “Shabam”, strong, ‘n full of cheer230

9- ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒ ﻬ ﺎ ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺏ ﻟِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻤ ﻭ ﻡ ﻴ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻁﹸ ﺠِ ﺴ ﻤ ﻪ ﺒِﺴﻘﺎﻡ ِ 9- Such potent wine, loos’ning a drinkers’ tongue As if with fever one was highly strung.

10- ﻭ ﻤ ﺠِ ﺩ ﺓﹲ ﻨﹶﺴﺄَﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺭ ﺘﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤ ﺔﹶ ﻓﻲ ﻁ ﺭ ﻴ ﻕٍ ﺤﺎﻡ ِ 10- Swift-paced camel! I prod, it hurries on, as ostrich flees hot sand, quite soon is gone.

11- ﺘـَـﻨـْﺤﺩِﻱ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻼﹼ ﺕِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻡٍ ﺭﺃْﺴﻬﺎ ﺭ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺴِ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺭﺜِﻴﻡ ﺩﺍﻡ ِ 11- With head held high, she hardships takes in stride. Although the cut in bleeding pad be wide.231

12- ﺠﺎﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﻟِ ﺘﹶ ﺼ ﺭ ﻋ ﻨ ﻲ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ: ﺍﻗﺼِﺭﻱ ﺇﻨﻲ ﺍ ﻤ ﺭ ﺅٌ ﺼﺭﻋﻲ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻙِ ﺤ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡ 12- To have me slain, her efforts were in vain. Said I: “`nough! Slay’ng me, wrongful will remain”.

13- ﻓﹶ ﺠ ﺯ ﻴِ ﺕِ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺠ ﺯ ﺍ ﺀِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺔِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺤِ ﺩٍ ﻭ ﺭ ﺠ ﻌ ﺕِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻤ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﺭﺍ ﺒِ ﺴ ﻼ ﻡِ 13- Yet her I thanked for her vigorous speed And wished she’d e’er her way in safety lead.

14- ﻭﻜﹶﺄﻨﱠﻤﺎ ﺒ ﺩ ﺭ ﻭﺼِﻴلُ ﻜﹸ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻔﹶ ﺔٍ ﻭﻜﹶﺄﻨﱠﻤﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻋ ﺎ ﻗِ لٍ ﺃ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡ 14- “Badr”; “Kutayfa” “cAgil”; “’Armam”; I fear are far apart, yet they she brings so near.

15- ﺃ ﺒ ﻠِ ﻎﹾ ﺴ ﺒ ﻴ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﺇ ﻥ ﻋ ﺭ ﻀ ﺕﹶ ﺭِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺇﻨﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﻤ ﻙ ﺇﻥ ﻋ ﺸﹶ ﻭ ﺕﹶ ﺃﻤﺎﻤﻲ 15- If you t’ “Subacy” a verse message recite, tell him: “Should you ‘nother ‘gainst me incite…”

16- ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﺼِ ﺭ ﺇ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻙ ﻤِﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻋ ﻴ ﺩِ ﻓﺈﻨﹼﻨﻲ ﻤﻤﺎ ﺃُﻻﻗﻲ ﻷ ﺸﹸ ﺩ ﺤﺯﺍﻤﻲ

230 `Ana: a town on the upper Euphrates in `al-`Iraq. “Shabam” an unidentified location, famed for its wine. 231 The pad to a camel is what a hoof is to a horse.

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16- “From threat’ning me you had better desist. For I’m well-tried and ready to resist”.

17- ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﻪ ﺒ ﻌﺩﻤﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻨﹶﻭﻤﻭﺍ ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﺎﻟﻲ ﺼ ﻔﹾ ﺤ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﻨﱡﻭﺍﻡ ِ 17- Awake am I when all are fast asleep. The riser I, when heads to pillows keep.

18- ﻭﺃﻨﺎ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻋ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ ﻓﹶ ﻀ ﻠﹶ ﻪ ﻭ ﻨﹸ ﺸِ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻥ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﺍﺒﻥ ﺃُ ﻡ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﻡ ِ 18- My free-flowing favours “Ma`ad” had praised. And “Hujr’s” name to glorious heights I’ve raised.

19- ﻭﺃُﻨﹶﺎﺯِلُ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻁﹶ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻪ ﻨِ ﺯ ﻟﹸ ﻪ ﻭﺇﺫ ﺃُ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻀ لُ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﻁِ ﻴ ﺵﹸ ﺴِﻬﺎﻤﻲ 19- I challenge th’ awesome champion, sans delay. In war my arrows never go astray.

20- ﺨﹶﺎﻟﻲ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥ ﻜﹶ ﺒ ﺸﹶ ﺔﹶ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﻤ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻭﺃﺒﻭ ﻴﺯﻴﺩ ﻭ ﺭ ﻫ ﻁﹸ ﻪ ﺃﻋﻤﺎﻤِﻲ 20- My uncle “Ibn Kabsha”’s standing I’ve well-known. And “Abu Yazid” ‘n his men of renown.232

21- ﻭﺇﺫﺍ ﺃُ ﺫ ﻴِ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﺒ ﻠﹾ ﺩ ﺓٍ ﻭﺩﻋﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﻭﻻ ﺃُ ﻗِ ﻴ ﻡ ﺒِ ﻐﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭِ ﻤﻘﹶﺎﻡ ِ 21- A town in which I’m harmed, I will forsake. And ne’er a home, `xcept home, will I e’er take

[55] ﺃﻻ ﻗﹶ ﺒ ﺢ ﺍﷲ ﺃ ﻟ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺠِ ﻡ “May God uglify the “Barajim”” Recited at the slaying of Shurahbil b. cAmr b. Hujr, Imru’ul Qays’s uncle.

1- ﺃﻻ ﻗﹶ ﺒ ﺢ ﺍ ﷲُ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺠِ ﻡ ﻜﹸﻠﱠﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺠ ﺩ ﻉ ﻴ ﺭ ﺒ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﻋ ﻔﹼ ﺭ ﺩﺍﺭِﻤﺎ 1- May God uglify th’ “Barajim”, one ‘n all Cut “Yarbu`u’s” nose, and “Darim” t’dust let fall.233

232 The verse specifies Ibn Kabsha as his maternal uncle, and Abu Yazid as his paternal uncle. “Men of renown” refers to Abu Yazid’s retainers who follow him faithfully and are known widely for their loyalty.

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2- ﻭ ﺁ ﺜﹶ ﺭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺤ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺁل ﻤ ﺠ ﺎ ﺸِ ﻊٍ ﺭِ ﻗﹶ ﺎ ﺏ ﺇ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﺎﺭِﻤﺎ 2- May he send down on “Mujashci’s” house a curse. They’re rags that women their menstru`al periods nurse.234

3- ﻓﻤﺎ ﻗﺎﺘﹶﻠﻭﺍ ﻋ ﻥ ﺭﺒﻬِﻡ ﻭ ﺭ ﺒ ﻴ ﺒِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻭﻻ ﺁﺫﻨﻭﺍ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻓ ﻴ ﻅ ﻔﹶ ﺭ ﺴﺎﻟِﻤﺎﹰ 3- They’d fought not for their lord, and so defend. Nor him have warned and out to safety send.

4- ﻭﻤﺎ ﻓﹶﻌﻠﻭﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻌ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺒِ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻩِ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏِ ﻫ ﻨ ﺩٍ ﺇﺫ ﺘ ﺠ ﺭ ﺩ ﻗﺎﺌِﻤﺎ 4- They failed their neighbour; so unlike “cUwayr”235 Who stood for “Hind” and challenged all to dare.

[56] ﻜﹶﺄَﻨﹼﻲ ﺇﺫ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻠﱠﻰ “When I al-Mucalla for refuge asked” Praising “al-Mucalla” , one of the Beni Taym, a clan of the Tayy tribe who gave him refuge when `al-Munthir, king of Hira was pursuing him `al-Mu’alla had stood up for the poet, successfully warding off his pursuer.236

1- ﻜﺄﻨﻲ ﺇﺫ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻠﹼﻰ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻭ ﺍ ﺫِ ﺥِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺸﹶﻤﺎﻡ ِ 1- When I “`al-Mu`alla” for refuge asked, twas as if in safe mountain fastness I basked.

2- ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻌِﺭﺍﻕِ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻤﻌﻠﹼﻰ ﺒِﻤﻘﹾﺘﹶﺩِﺭ ﻭﻻ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺍﻟﺸﺎﻡ ِ 2- `Iraq’s king could not’ “ Mu`alla” o’erwhelm. Nor could so do the king of Syria’s realm.

233 The Barajim, Yarb`u, and Darim are all clans of the Beni Temim tribe, involved in slaying his uncle Shurahbil. 234 Mujashi : another clan of the Beni Temim involved in slaying Shurahbil. 235 “cUwayr”: is cUwayr b. Shajna `al-cUtaridi, who gave Imru’ul Qays refuge when foes were thick upon him. cUwayr had stood at Hind’s (the poet’s sister) door and dared anyone to harm her. 236 Al-Munthir king of the pro-Persian Lakhmid state with Hira as its capital, saw in Imru’ul Qays a potential danger on two counts: First, his pro-Byzantine propensities and second, his attempts to re- establish the Kingdom of Kinda, which, would it come to pass, would constitute, as a client state of Constantinople, a direct threat to the Lakhmid kingdom of Hira.

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3- ﺃ ﺼ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺹ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﺭ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﻥِ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶﻭﻟﹼﻰ ﻋ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺽ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﻬﻤﺎﻡ ِ 3- For he “Two-Plaits’s” high host from me repelled 237. And safely had the king’s dire threat dispelled.

4- ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺤﺸﹶﺎ ﺍﻤﺭﺉ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﺒﻨﻭ ﺘﹶﻴﻡ ٍ ﻤﺼﺎﺒِﻴﺢ ﺍﻟﻅﹼﻼﻡ ِ 4- Imru’ul Qays bin Hujr ne’er will take fright, when Beni Taym’s lamps turn darkness to light.

[57] ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭ ﺃ ﺱِ ﺼ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﻊ “On mount “Saylca” Imru’ul Qays was in “Dammoon”, in Hadhramaut, when news came in of his father’s murder. He recited:

1- ﺃﺘﺎﻨﻲ ﻭﺃﺼﺤﺎﺒﻲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭ ﺃ ﺱِ ﺼ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﻊٍ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹲ ﺃﻁﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﻨﻭﻡ ﻋﻨﻲ ﻓﺄﻨﹾﻌﻤﺎ 1- Whilst I, and friends on “Mount Sayla`” were high. He came with news that sleep from eyes let fly.

2- ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟِ ﻌِ ﺠ ﻠ ﻲ ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻤ ﺂ ﺒ ﻪ ﺃ ﺒِ ﻥ ﻟﻲ ﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻟﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺠ ﻤ ﺠ ﻤ ﺎ 2- Said I to th’ rider who from far did hail: “Coherent be, ‘n make clear your garbled wail”.

3- ﻓﹶ ﻘ ﺎ لَ ﺃ ﺒ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻠﹼ ﻌ ﻥ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻫِ لٌ ﺃﺒﺎﺤﺎ ﺤِﻤﻰ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﻓ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢ ﻤﺴﻠﹶﻤﺎ 3- Said he “Let curses “cAmr” ‘n “Kahil” enfold, They’ve ravaged “Hujr” and left him lying cold”.

[58] ﻻ ﻴﺠﻤﻌﻨﹶﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺊٌ “Nothing binds us” Rebuking those reproaching him in the aftermath of his father’s murder.

237 Two-Plaits: King al-Harith of Hira; who had two long plaits on either side of his head. Al- Mu`alla had stood up firmly for Imru’ul Qays against at Munthir’s host which the verse describes as “cloud-high”.

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1- ﺃﻨﻰ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻲ ﺍﺴﺘﺘﺏ ﻟﹶﻭﻤﻜﹸﻤﺎ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹶﻠﹸﻭﻤﺎ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻭﻻ ﻋﺼﻤﺎ 1- Why’re you with me so rife with your reproach? And did not “Hujr” and “`Usm” with blame approach238

2- ﻜﹶ ﻼﹼ ﻴ ﻤ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻹ ﻟﹶ ﻪِ ﻴﺠﻤﻌﻨﹶﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺊٌ ﻭﺃﺨﹶﻭﺍﻟﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺠﺸﹸﻤﺎ 2- No, by God’s oath, we by nought are bound. Till th’ “Jeshm” paying courtesy calls, are found.239

3- ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺘﹶ ﺯ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻀِﺒﺎﻉ ﻤ ﻠ ﺤ ﻤ ﺔﹰ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﺜﹶ ﻤ ﻭ ﺩ ﺃﻭ ﺇﺭﻤﺎ 3- Till jackals prowl war grounds bethick’nd with gore Where th’dead are dead ‘s “Thamood” and “Iram of yore.240

[59] ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻤ ﻤ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ “Wild Asses at the water-pool”. It is said that these verses guided a delegation, stricken with thirst, sent from `al-Yemen to the Prophet Mohammad, almost a century after Imru’ul Qays recited these two lines of verse. The delegation had lost it’s way, but knew, from these verses, that water was somewhere near. A rider passed them by, and a member of the delegation recited the verses to him, hoping he would guide them to water. “who spoke these lines?” the rider asked. “Imru’ul Qays” was the reply. “He spoke well” the rider replied.” There is “Dharij”, over there”. The delegation proceeded to the pool, fringed with vegetation, and filled their water-skins for the remainder of their journey.

1- ﻭﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺭﺃﺕ ﺇ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﺭ ﻴ ﻌ ﺔﹶ ﻫﻤﻬﺎ ﻭﺇﻥ ﺍﻟﺒﻴﺎﺽ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻓﺭﺍﺌِﺼِﻬﺎ ﺩﺍﻤِﻲ 1- And seeing th’ water they were so in need

238 He is rebuking those who blame him for his father’s murder. Hujr himself, he says, should be blamed for his own fate. `Usm was probably one of his fathers closest retainers. 239 The verse refers to the poet’s uncles as the “Beni Jashm”; a euphamism for lions. He affirms his insistence on vengeance for his father’s murder and there being no possibility of reconciliation whatsoever with the culprits. The verse refers to the poet’s clan as being like lions-Beni Jashm- that do not pay courtesy calls on their adversaries. 240 He foresees corpse-strewn battlegrounds with his adversaries. “Thamood” a legendary Arabian tribe annihilatd for its iniquity by a devastating wind, Sarsar, that swept through them for seven days and eight nights. “Iram”, also an extinct legendary city famed for its gardens and numerous, high pillars.

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Yet feared their quaking white stripes yet may bleed241

2- ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻤ ﻤ ﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺘﻲ ﻋِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻀ ﺎ ﺭ ﺝٍ ﻴﻔﺊ ﻋﻠﻴﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻅﱢ لﱡ ﻋﺭﻤﻀﻬﺎ ﻁﹶﺎﻤﻲ 2- And so they sought the spring by “Dharij” near, enfringed with greensome shade, rising thick’n sheer.

[60] ﻋ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭ ﻤ ﻥ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﻋﻭﻴﺭ “cUwayr and the likes of cUwayr” Praising cUwayr b. Shejna of Beni Temim, who gave refuge to Hind, Imru’ul Qays’s sister after their father’s death. He also praises the Beni `Awf.

1- ﺃ ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﻅﹶ لَ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺤ ﺎ ﻤ ﻴ ﺘﹸ ﻡ ﻭ ﺼ ﺒ ﺭ ﺘﹸ ﻡ ﻷﺜﻨﹶﻴﺕﹸ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺼﺎﻟِﺤﺎﹰ ﻭﻷَﺭﻀﺎﻨﻲ 1- Handhal! Had you stood up in our defence, my pleasured praise for you would’ve been intense.

2- ﺃ ﻻﹶ ﺇ ﻥ ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹸﻨﹾﺘﹸﻡ ﺃ ﻤ ﺱِ ﺩ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﻫ ﻡ ﻤﻨﹶﻌﻭﺍ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻟﹶ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺁ لَ ﻏﹸ ﺩ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥِ 2- To ask base folk for refuge once I tried. A treach’rous clan asylum me denied.

3- ﻋ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭ ﻤ ﻥ ﻤِﺜلُ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻭ ﺭ ﻫ ﻁِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺃ ﺴ ﻌ ﺩ ﻓﻲ ﻟﹶ ﻴ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻼ ﺒِ لِ ﺼ ﻔ ﻭ ﺍ ﻥِ 3- Not so “`Uwayr”; his likes; his goodly band. For th’care worn in black nights; “Safwan” will e’er stand.242

4- ﺜِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺏ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻋ ﻭ ﻑٍ ﻁﹶﻬﺎﺭﻯ ﻨﹶ ﻘِ ﻴ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﺃ ﻭ ﺠ ﻬ ﻬ ﻡ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻫِ ﺩِ ﻏﹸ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥِ 4- The hearts of “Beni `Awf”! so pure and bright. In times of trial, their faces glowing white.243

5- ﻫ ﻡ ﺃﺒﻠﹶﻐﹸﻭﺍ ﺍﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻀ ﻠﱠ لَ ﺃ ﻫ ﻠﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﻭﺴﺎﺭﻭﺍ ﺒِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻌِﺭﺍﻕِ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥِ 5- They gave their distressed kin comfort and aid. Th’trip ‘tween cIraq ‘n Najran, togeth’r they made244

241 Thirsty wild-ass are glad to find water, yet quake with fear of lurking hunters. 242 “`Uwayr” and “Safwan” were of the Beni Temim who gave refuge to Imru’ul Qays’s sister. 243 “white face” signifies a reflection of good deeds, clear conscience, and righteous conduct.

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6- ﻓﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﺃَﺼﺒﺤﻭﺍ، ﻭ ﺍ ﷲُ ﺃَ ﺼ ﻔ ﺎ ﻫ ﻡ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺃَ ﺒ ﺭ ﺒِﻤﻴﺜﹶﺎﻕِ ﻭﺃﻭﻓﹶﻰ ﺒ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥِ 6- For they’re Gods’ chos’n; and He them had well-blessed. True to their word; to neighbours give their best.

[61] ﻟﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ لٌ “Ruined abodes”

1- ﻟِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ لٌ ﺃَ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻓﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨ ﻲ ﻜﹶ ﺨﹶ ﻁﹼ ﺯ ﺒ ﻭ ﺭٍ ﻓﻲ ﻋِ ﺴِ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻴ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥِ 1- Ruined abodes! I, down with grief am weighed. You’re scripts on palm with time away did fade245

2- ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﻟِ ﻬِ ﻨﹾ ﺩٍ ﻭﺍﻟﺭﺒﺎﺏِ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﻰ ﻟﹶﻴﺎﻟﻴﻨﺎ ﺒﺎﻟﻨﹶﻌﻑِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒ ﺩ ﻻ ﻥ ِ 2- Abodes of “Hind”; “Rabab”, ‘n “Fartan”; so fair. O for those “Bidlan” nights of joy so rare246

3- ﻟﹶﻴﺎﻟﻲ ﻴﺩﻋﻭﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﻯ ﻓ ﺄُ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺒ ﻪ ﻭ ﺃ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤ ﻥ ﺃﻫﻭﻯ ﺇ ﻟ ﻲ ﺭﻭﺍﻨﻲ 3- Love calls at nights, and I to it respond. At me rest eyes of those of whom I’m fond.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺈ ﻥ ﺃُ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻤِ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻗﹶﻴﻨﺔٍ ﻜﹶ ﺸﹶ ﻔ ﺕﹸ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﺠ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺠﺒﺎﻥ ِ 4- When deep in thought in nights of gloom and care. I know what fools,to know, would never dare.

5- ﻭﺇﻥ ﺃ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻗﹶﻴﻨﹶﺔٍ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﺃ ﻋ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒِﻜﹶﺭﺍﻥ ِ 5- When deep in thought in nights of gloom and care I dream of maid whose songs and strums are fair247

244 The Beni cAwf, so well praised here for their chivalry, hurried to comfort “ their kin”, the family of the poet’s slain uncle Shurahbil, and accompanied them, for their safety, all the way from `al- cIraq to Najran, in the Yemen, delivering them to Shurahbil’s (and the poet’s) Kinda tribe. 245 “Scripts on palms”; Palm branches, stripped of leaves, were used as writing material, especially in `al-Yemen. Inscriptions on such material, with time, became illegible. The abodes had faded away from their former pride and glory, to ruins, as inscriptions on palm pulp fade away with time. 246 “Bidlan”: a high land town in `al-Yemen. 247 The verse specifies her strumming on the lute.

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6- ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﺯ ﻫ ﺭ ﻴﻌﻠﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤِ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِ ﺼ ﻭ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﺃَ ﺠ ﺵﱡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺤ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥ ِ 6- Lute’s tunes; more vibrant than hosts’ din and drum. It’s tenor rich when hands upon it strum.

7- ﻭﺇﻥ ﺃ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺸﹶ ﻬِ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﻋﻠﹶﻰ ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺏ ﺭِ ﺨﹾ ﻭِ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﺒﺎﻥ ِ 7- When deep in thought in nights of gloom and care, I long to charge on supple steed and spare.

8- ﻋﻠﻰ ﺭ ﺒ ﺫٍ ﻴ ﺯ ﺩ ﺍ ﺩ ﻋ ﻔﹾ ﻭ ﺍﹰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺠﺭﻯ ﻤِ ﺴ ﺢ ﺤﺜﻴﺙِ ﺍﻟﺭﻜﹾﺽ ﻭﺍﻟﺫﱠﺃَﻻﻥ ِ 8- Swift-shanked; at canter cool and at its ease. At gallop full; yet faster forward flees.

9- ﻭ ﻴ ﺨﹾ ﺩ ﻱ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺼ ﻡ ﺼِ ﻼ ﺏٍ ﻤ ﻼﹶ ﻁِ ﺱٍ ﺸﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﺕِ ﻋ ﻘﹾ ﺩٍ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﺕٍ ﻤِﺜﺎﻥ ِ 9- It pounds on hoofs that hardest stone can break. It’s supple pastems all in stride can take.

10- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺙٍ ﻤِﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺴ ﻤِ ﻲ ﺤ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻼﹶ ﻋ ﻪ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻁﹼ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺒ ﺸ ﻴ ﻅﹶ ﻡٍ ﺍﻟﺼﻠﹶﺘﺎﻥ ِ 10- Through grazing dark and green; luscious and high. On `long short-haired steed mounted, I let fly.

11- ﻤِ ﻜﹸ ﺭ ﻤِ ﻔﹶ ﺭ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺒِ لٍ ﻤ ﺩ ﺒِ ﺭٍ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺱِ ﻅﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺏِ ﺍﻟﻌﺩﻭﺍﻥ ِ 11- It reels; it charges; veers, retreats- at once Like oryx ram it feeds and has it’s bounce.

12- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺠﻨﺒﻨﺎﻩ ﺘﹶ ﺄَ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤ ﺘﹾ ﻨﹸ ﻪ ﻜﹶ ﻌِ ﺭ ﻕِ ﺍﻟﺭﺨﺎﻤﻰ ﺍ ﻫ ﺘﹶ ﺯ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻬﻁﹶﻼﹶﻥ ِ 12- It’s back is supple, t’right, or left when led Like “Rukhama” roots when by rain are fed248

13- ﺘﹶ ﻤ ﺘﱠ ﻊ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺩﻨﹾﻴﺎ ﻓ ﺈ ﻨﱠ ﻙ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺸﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﺕِ ﻭﺍﻟﻨِﺴﺎﺀِ ﺍﻟﺤِﺴﺎﻥ ِ 13- Enjoy your days; they do with joys abound Where pleasures ‘nd fine women are to be found.

248 “Rukhama”: surface roots, normally brittle. Rain-fed, they turn rope-like in flexibility. The horse is as flexible.

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14- ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺒِﻴﺽِ ﻜ ﺎ ﻵ ﺭ ﺍ ﻡِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻷُ ﺩ ﻡِْ ِ ﻜﺎﻟﺩﻤﻰ ﺤﻭﺍﺼِﻨﹸﻬﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺒﺭِﻗﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﺍﻨِﻲ 14- The fair is deer-like; th’ dark like pretty doll Th’ virtuous ’s coy; the gaudy’s long looks lull.

15- ﺃَ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﻨﹶﺒﻬﺎﻨﻴﺔٍ ﺤ لﱠ ﺃَﻫﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺒِﺠﺯﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻼﹶ ﻋ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻙ ﺘﹶﺒﺘﹶﺩِﺭﺍﻥ ِ 15- Recall th’ “Nabhan” woman, alone she cries Her folk had left; she tearful left my eyes.249

16- ﻓﹶﺩﻤﻌﻬﻤﺎ ﺴ ﻜﹾ ﺏ ﻭ ﺴ ﺢ ﻭ ﺩِ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﺭ ﺵﱞ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻑﹲ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻬ ﻤِ ﻼ ﻥ ِ 16- Drizzle; shower; downpour, is my tear-flow. From spray t’ torrents, down th’ tears do go.

17- ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻨﱠ ﻬ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤﺯﺍﺩﺘﺎ ﻤﺘـَﺤﺠـﱢلٍ ﻓﹶ ﺭِ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻟﹶﻤﺎ ﺘﹸﺴﻠﹶﻘﺎ ﺒِﺩِﻫﺎﻥ ِ 17- They ‘re now like hurried men’s wat’r skins; o’er- toiled250 O’er-used, worn-out, and never have been oiled.

[62] ﻗِﻔﺎ ﻨ ﺒ ﻙِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِﻜﹾﺭﻯ ﺤ ﺒ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﻭ ﻋِ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ “On ruined abodes of love, lets stand to mourn” Recited on his way to Constantinople

1- ﻗِﻔﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﻙِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫﻜﺭﻯ ﺤﺒﻴﺏٍ ﻭ ﻋِ ﺭ ﻓ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻭ ﺭ ﺴ ﻡٍ ﻋ ﻔﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺁ ﻴ ﺎ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺫﹸ ﺃﺯﻤﺎﻥ ِ 1- On ruined abodes of love lets stand to mourn. On outlines faded of past times forlorn.

2- ﺃَ ﺘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺤِ ﺠ ﺞ ﺒﻌﺩِﻱ ﻋﻠﻴﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺨﹶ ﻁﱢ ﺯ ﺒ ﻭ ﺭٍ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﻑِ ﺭﻫﺒﺎﻥ ِ 2- It’s now become, after long years have passed, like monks old scripts whose lines no longer last.

3- ﺫﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻤ ﻴ ﻊ ﻓﹶ ﻬ ﻴ ﺠ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻘﺎﺒﻴلَ ﺴ ﻘﹾ ﻡٍ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻀ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻭﺃَﺸﹾﺠﺎﻥ ِ 3- It, folks’ sorrows stirred, when it I recalled,

249 “Nabhan”: a clan of the Tayy tribe. The poet had stayed with them for a while. He appears to have been impressed with the lonely sad charm of this woman. 250 They: his eyes, worn out from weeping.

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and stirred past aches that once my soul begalled.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺴ ﺨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺩﻤﻭﻋﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺭﺩﺍﺀِ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻬﺎ ﻜ ـُ ﻠ ﻰ ﻤِﻥ ﺸﹶ ﻌِ ﻴ ﺏٍ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕﹶ ﺴ ﺢ ﻭﺘﹶﻬﺘﺎﻥ ِ 4- My tears soon drenched my cloak; as if they spilled from holed water-skins with water that were filled.

5- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀ ﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺨﹾ ﺯ ﻥ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻟِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺸﹶ ﻲ ﺀٍ ﺴِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻩ ﺒِﺨﹶﺯﺍﻥ ِ 5- If one’s secrets from one’s tongue fails to keep, secrets entrusted t’ him, from him, will seep.

6- ﻓﹶﺈﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺭﻴﻨﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺭِ ﺤ ﺎ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺠ ﺎ ﺒِ ﺭٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺤ ﺭ ﺝٍ ﻜﺎﻟﻘﹶﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺨﹾ ﻔِ ﻕﹸ ﺃﻜﹾﻔﺎﻨﻲ 6- See me on Jaber’s litter, ill, I lay; my clothes, my death-sheets; ‘n wind flapping away.

7- ﻓﹶﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺏ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﺏٍ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻩ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻓﹶ ﻜﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹸ لﱠ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻓﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺩ ﺍ ﻨ ﻲ 7- O for wretches whose foes in grave I’ve laid. O for captives whose ransoms I have paid.

8- ﻭ ﻓِ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥِ ﺼِ ﺩ ﻕٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺒ ﻌ ﺜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﺴ ﺤ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠ ﻤ ﻴ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻋ ﺎ ﺙﹾ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹾ ﻭ ﺍ ﻥ ِ 8- I woke fine lads who were with sleep haggard, Like th’ blind, they stumb’ld; like tott’ring drunks, staggered.

9- ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺒ ﻌ ﻴ ﺩٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﻨِﻴﺎﻁﹶﻪ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕِ ﻟﹶ ﻭ ﺙٍ ﺴ ﻬ ﻭ ﺓِ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﹾﻲ ﻤِﺫﻋﺎﻥ ِ 9- Vast lands I’ve crossed, that windswept were and wide, on swifty camel, supple in its stride.

10- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺙٍ ﻜﹶﺄﻟﹾﻭﺍﻥِ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﻗﺩ ﻫ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﻭ ﺭ ﻓِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻜ لﱡ ﺃ ﻭ ﻁﹶ ﻑﹶ ﺤﻨﹼﺎﻥ ِ 10- To the foxgrape, to graze, my mount I sent. O’er head; low thund’ry clouds oft came, and went.

11- ﻋﻠﻰ ﻫ ﻴ ﻜﹶ لٍ ﻴ ﻌ ﻁِ ﻴ ﻙ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺴ ﺅ ﺍ ﻟِ ﻪِ ﺃَﻓﹶﺎﻨِﻴﻥ ﺠ ﺭ ﻱٍ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺯ ﻭﻻ ﻭﺍﻥ ِ 11- My mount, a massive temple of a steed. Such speed it gives before you ask for speed.

12- ﻜﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻅِ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀِ ﺍ ﻷ ﻋ ﻔﹶ ﺭِ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﻀ ﺭ ﺠ ﺕﹾ ﻟ ﻪ ﻋ ﻘ ﺎ ﺏ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﻟﱠ ﺕﹾ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﺦِ ﺜﹶﻬﻼﻥ ِ

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12- In speed ’tis like harts that dart and slip, When “Thahlan” vultures swoop to fasten grip.251

13- ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﻌﻴﺭ ﻗﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺭٍ ﻤ ﻀِ ﻠﱠ ﺔٍ ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﺴ ﺎ ﻡٍ ﺴ ﺎ ﻫِ ﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺠ ﻪِ ﺤﺴﺎﻥ ِ 13- Expanses; useless as guts of wild-ass. On high, lean-waisted steed, straight through, I pass252

14- ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﻓِ ﻊ ﺃ ﻋ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﻑﹶ ﺍﻟﻤﻁﹶﺎﻴﺎ ﺒِ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﻤ ﺎ لَ ﻏﹸ ﺼ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻋِ ﻡ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺃَﻏﹾﺼﺎﻥ ِ 14- It jostles beasts of burden, plodding on their ways Like supple branch, ‘gainst stiffer branches sways

15- ﻭ ﻤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﻜﹶ ﻐﹸ ﻼﱠ ﻥِ ﺍ ﻷُ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﻌِ ﻡِ ﺒﺎﻟﻎ ٍ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺩ ﻭ ﺫِﻱ ﺯ ﻫ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻭ ﺃَ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ِ 15- An army great; as ‘Unay’im’s wood ‘s dense, To foes moves close, its’ will and pow’r intense.253

16- ﻤ ﻁﹶ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺘﹶ ﻜِ لﱠ ﻤ ﻁِ ﻴ ﻬ ﻡ ﻭﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺩ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻥ ﺒِﺄَﺭﺴﺎﻥ ِ 16- With them I rode; the way was long and strained. Their beasts were tired; their horses trudged unreined.254

17- ﻭﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺘﹶﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺫﻱ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﺒ ﺎ ﺩ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﻋ ﻭ ﺍ ﻑٍ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻨﹸ ﺴ ﻭ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﻋِ ﻘﹾ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥِ 17- The steeds, now dead, of rest were much in need Were ringed by vultures t’tear at them and feed.

[63] ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺭ ﺍ ﻕِ ﺍﻟﻰ ﻋ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥِ “His realms from ‘Al-cIraq t’ cOman extend”. In praise of ‘al-Harith, an ancestor of Imru’ul Qays.

1- ﺃَ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺙِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙِ ﺒ ﻥِ ﻋﻤﺭٍﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻌِﺭﺍ ﻕِ ﺍﻟﻰ ﻋﻤﺎﻥ ِ 1- Will kings such as ‘al-Harith e’er be sent. Iraq t’ Oman bestretch his realms’ extent.

251 “Thahlan”: a high mountain range in whose peaks rapacious vultures thrive. 252 The wild-ass was inedible. It was hunted purely for sport. 253 Unaycim: a thickly wooded valley. 254 Their pack-camels were exhausted; their horses plodded on wearily without reins.

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2- ﻤ ﺠ ﺎ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓﹰ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺸﹶﻤﺠﻰ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺠ ﺭ ﻡٍ ﻫ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻤﺎ ﺃُ ﺘِ ﻴ ﺢ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻬﻭﺍﻥ ِ 2- T’live near “Beni Shamaj” is shame indeed. No other shame this shame e’er could exceed.255

3- ﻭ ﻴ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒﻨﹸﻭ ﺸﹶﻤﺠﻰ ﺒ ﻥِ ﺠ ﺭ ﻡٍ ﻤﻌِﻴﺯﻫﻡ، ﺤ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻙ ﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻨ ﺎ ﻥِ 3- They offer their ewes, as if they’re alms. O Merc’ful One! Your mercy without qualms!256

[64] ﺃَ ﻓﹾ ﺴ ﺩ ﺕﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﻤﻥ “You’ve ruined your favours” Reproaching one of the Beni Tayy who had reminded the poet of some favours the Tayy man had bestowed on him:

1- ﺃَ ﻓﹾ ﺴ ﺩ ﺕﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﻤﻥ ﻤﺎ ﺃَ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻨِ ﻌ ﻡٍ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃﺴﺩﻯ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﻥِ 1- You’ve ruined what you in favour have bestowed. Th’gen’rous do not remind of favours owed.

[65] ﺃَﻻ ﻴﺎ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥ ﺒﻜﹼﻲ ﻟِﻲ “O eye, for me cry” Lamenting the cruel turns of time.

1- ﺃﻻ ﻴﺎ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥِ ! ﺒﻜﹼﻲ ﻟﻲ ﺸﹶﻨﻴﻨﹶﺎ ﻭﺒﻜﹼﻲ ﻟﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﻙِ ﺍﻟﺫﺍﻫِﺒﻴﻨﺎ 1- O eye, for me in copious tearflow cry. And cry for kings who’ve long since passed us by257

2- ﻤ ﻠ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﺤ ﺠ ﺭٍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭٍ ﻴ ﺴ ﺎ ﻗﹸ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺸِ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﻴﻘﹾﺘﹶﻠﻭﻨﺎ

255 The verse identifies this clan, loathsome to the poet as “Beni Shamja b. ”. 256 Ewes were loaned to neighbours in need of milk. The animals were returned, with gratitude, when no longer required. He vilifies the Beni Shamaja in that they loan their ewes to neighbours as if they are giving alms to beggars. He cries out to providence for mercy; having been reduced to the deplorable state of asking favours from the likes of the Beni Shamaja. 257 Al-Muthir, King of Hira, was a boon companion of the Kings of Kinda. He envied their chivalry and superior appearance, so much so that he ordered his retainers to follow, and slay them. The assassins caught up with Kinda’s Royal party. There, the Kings of Kinda were slain. Of this bloody deed Imru’ul Qays recited this lament.

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2- The kings of “Hujr bin ‘Amr’”s line and domain, in one black night driv’n out they were, and slain.

3- ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻭ ﻓﻲ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺔٍ ﺃُﺼﻴﺒﻭﺍ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻜِ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻤﺭِﻴﻨﹶﺎ 3- If only they’d fell fighting in honour’s field, not their lives at “Merina” so cheaply yield.

4- ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹸ ﻐﹾ ﺴ لْ ﺠ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﻤ ﻬ ﻡ ﺒِ ﻐﹸ ﺴ لٍ ﻭ ﻟ ﻜِ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻤﺭﻤﻠِﻴﻨﺎ 4- Their heads weren’t washed, t’pur’ty to be restored. Uncleansed remained, with blood besmeared and gored.258

5- ﺘﹶ ﻅﹶ لﱡ ﺍﻟﻁﱠ ﻴ ﺭ ﻋ ﺎ ﻜِ ﻔﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺯِ ﻉ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠِ ﺏ ﻭﺍﻟﻌﻴﻭﻨﺎ 5- O’er their dead bodies hungry vultures fly, then swoop to prize the brow and pluck the eye.

[66] ﺴِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﻜﺎﻟﻠﱠﻬﺏ ”A Lance-like flameِ“ Describing his lance.

1- ﺠ ﻤ ﻌ ﺕﹸ ﺭ ﺩ ﻴ ﻨِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺴِ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺴﻨﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﺏٍ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺘﱠ ﺼِ لْ ﺒِ ﺩ ﺨﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ 1- I’cquired a lance, whose hotly pointed blade so like a gleaming smokeless flame was made.

[67] ﻴ ﺼ ﺭﱢ ﻓﹸ ﻬ ﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺜﹶ ﻥ “By Course hands dispersed” Lamenting the cruel turns of time.

1- ﻭﻤﺎ ﻫ ﺎ ﺝ ﻫﺫﹶﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﺯِ لٍ ﺩ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺱ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻴ ﺫ ﺒ لٍ ﻓﹶﺭِﻗﹼﺎﻥ ِ 1- None roused this passion, burning hot and high but ru’ned homes that ‘tween “Yethbul”n ’and “Riqqan” lie259

258 In burial traditions, the dead were thoroughly washed, as they are today, and then sheet-winded before burial. He laments that his murdered ancestors were not given this consecration. 259 “Yethbul” and “Riqqan” are identified as two mountains in the possession of Beni ‘Amr b. Kilab.

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2- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺏ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﻁﹸ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺒ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻏﹶ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻓﻲ ﺴ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﻠﹼﻴلِ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺜﹶ ﺎ ﻨ ﻲِ 2- A tarred camel, with water-buckets, strived At night, before th’wat’r-camels arrived.260

3- ﻴﺼﺭﻓﹸﻬﺎ ﺸﹶ ﺜﹾ ﻥ ﻴﺭﻯ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﻨِ ﻪِ ﻭﻟِﺤﻴﺘﻴﻪِ ﻨﹶ ﻀ ﺢ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﻔﹶﻴﺎﺕِ 3- A thick-palmed man the loaded camel led The water splashed th’man’s chest, and beard, and head.

[68] ﺃﻻ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﻟﻲ “I wish I had”

1- ﻭﻤﺎ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺃَﺨﹾﺸﻰ ﺃ ﻥ ﺃ ﺒِ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﺒِ ﺤِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻏﹶﺭِﻴﺒﺎﹰ ﻭﻻ ﺃﻏﹾﺩﻭ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏِ ﻫ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥِ 1- In “Himyar” I, as stranger, fear not t’stay, Nor fear to “Hamadan’s” gate t’make my way.

2- ﻭ ﻻﹶ ﺃَﺜﹶﺜﹶﻨﱠﻰ ﻓﻲ ﻅِ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﺭٍ ﻭﺃﺠﺘﹶﻨﻲ ﺠﻨﹶﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺤ لِ ﻏﹶﺭﺜﺎﻨﺎﹰ ﻭﻻ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺜﹶ ﺎ ﻥِ 2- Nor in “Dhifar” to totter ‘nd grub my lot. So like a famished wretch I be; or not.

3- ﺃﻻ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﻟﻲ ﺒﺎﻟﻨﱠﺤلِ ﺃ ﺤ ﻴ ﺎ ﺀ ﻋ ﺎ ﻤِ لٍ ﻭﺒﺎﻟﺨﹶﺸﹶﻼﺕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻘﹾ ﻊِ ﺃ ﺭ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﻏِ ﺯ ﻻ ﻥِ 3- ‘Stead ‘f mis’ry, I wish rulers’ role was mine. ‘Stead of on pips, on ven’son I could dine.261

[69] ﺇﻥ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﻜﹸ ﻥ ﺇ ﺒِ لْ ﻓﹶ ﻤِ ﻌ ﺯ ﻯ “If wealth be not camels, goats let it be”

1- ﺃﻻ ﺇ ﻥ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﻜﹸ ﻥ ﺇِ ﺒ لٌ ﻓﹶﻤِﻌﺯﻯ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﻗﹸ ﺭ ﻭ ﻥ ﺠِ ﻠﹼ ﺘِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﺼِ ﻲ 1- If wealth be not camels, let goats it be.

260 The mangy camel, smeared with tar, strives on with its load of water-buckets. It’s black coating of tar blending in with night-time darkness; and arrives earlier than other healthier water-loaded camels. 261 Pips here refer to fruit pips of the “Dom” tree. The pips are edible; eaten when no other food is available.

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For old goats horns, in length, like sticks, grow free.262

2- ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﺩ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺭﺒﻴﻊ ﺒﻭﺍﻗﹶﺼﺎﺕٍ، ﻓﺂﺭﺍﻡٍ، ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﺩ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻟِ ﻲ 2- At “Waqisat”, for them, pastures were lush. And at “Aram” spring rain for them did gush.

3- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤ ﺸﱠ ﺕﹾ ﺤﻭﺍﻟِﺒﻬﺎ ﺃ ﺭ ﻨﹼ ﺕﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺄ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﻬ ﻡ ﻨﹶ ﻌِ ﻲ 3- When milked, they sound a ringing plaintive bleat. Like furn’ral wails that boom across a street.263

4- ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻭ ﺡ ﻜﹶﺄﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﻤِﻤﺎ ﺃ ﺼ ﺎ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﻌ ﻠﱠ ﻘﹶ ﺔﹲ ﺒ ﺄ ﺤ ﻘِ ﺒ ﻬ ﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻟِ ﻲ 4- She pours her milk in rich and flowing haste, As if milk pails were tied onto her waist.

5- ﻓﹶ ﺘﹸ ﻭ ﺴِ ﻊ ﺃ ﻫ ﻠﹶﻬﺎ ﺃﻗِﻁﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺴ ﻤ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺤ ﺴ ﺒ ﻙ ﻤِﻥ ﻏِ ﻨ ﻰ ﺸِ ﺒ ﻊ ﻭ ﺭِ ﻱ 5- So she’ll supply her folk with cheese and oil And what is wealth but food and drink sans toil264

[70] ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺴ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻀﺎﺌِﻊ “Lost Lineage” When Hujr, the poet’s father was slain, his daughter Hind took refuge with cUwayr b. Shijna, and his Beni ‘Awf clan. His folk said to him “Take their wealth, for it will soon be taken by others”. He rebuked them, and instead, at night, he accompanied Hind, leading her camel himself, all the way across the dunes to Najran. There, he said to her “These are your people. I have done my duty in protecting you”. cUwayr was praised by Imru’ul Qays in several poems, such as this.

262 Camels were considered the highest form of wealth. While lamenting his penury in not possessing large herds of pedigree camels, he is content with ageing goats whose horns grow “straight as sticks” with age. 263 The “street” here refers to the street-like open space separating two sides of a community. 264 ‘Al-‘Asmaci doubts whether Imru’ul Qays actually recited these lines. One with regal ambitions could hardly find contentment in the lot of a goatherd. Mohammad ‘al-Fadhl Ibrahim suspects that these lines were recited out of bitterness; the sylvan contentment being concealed protestation against the turns of time making him content with being a goatherd.

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1- ﺍ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻋ ﻭ ﻑٍ ﺍ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﺤ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻀ ﻴ ﻌ ﻪ ﺍﻟﺩﺨﻠﹸﻠﹸﻭﻥ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻏﹶﺩﺭﻭﺍ 1- Beni Awf had a glorious lineage built. But some of their own let it with’r and wilt.

2- ﺃﺩﻭﺍ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻫِ ﻡ ﺨﹸ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺜﹶ ﻪ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﻀِ ﻊ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤ ﻐ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻤ ﻥ ﻨﹶﺼﺭﻭﺍ 2- For sure they will for needy neighbours stand, When kith and kin decline a helping hand.

3- ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴﻔﹾﻌﻠﻭﺍ ﻓِ ﻌ لَ ﺁ لِ ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﻁﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺇ ﻨﹼ ﻬ ﻡ ﺠ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺒِ ﺌ ﺱ ﻤﺎ ﺍﺌﺘﹶﻤﺭﻭﺍ 3- They’ve not, as “Handhal”, done th’treach’rous deed T’hand o’er refuge–seekers. Treach’ry indeed.265

4- ﻻ ﺤ ﻤ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻱ ﻭﻓﹶﻰ ﻭﻻ ﻋ ﺩ ﺱ ﻭﻻ ﺍ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﻋ ﻴ ﺭٍ ﻴﺤﻜﱡﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺜﱠ ﻔﹶ ﺭ 4- “Handhal”, “Himyar”, “cUdas”, “Ast”– rogues they’re all. Strap-led burden beasts, low in worth and small.266

5- ﻟﻜِﻥ ﻋ ﻭ ﻴ ﺭ ﻭﻓﹶﻰ ﺒِ ﺫِ ﻤ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻻ ﻋ ﻭ ﺭ ﺸ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﻭﻻ ﻗِ ﺼ ﺭ 5- But fine Uwayr has nobly cleared his debts. For he no slur beslimes, and no charge besets.

[71] ﺃﻻ ﻴﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻑﹶ ﻫِﻨﹾﺩ “O for Hind’s heart-pangs”. Imru’ul Qays recited these lines as he was about to raid the Beni Assad in vengeance for his father, whom the Beni Assad killed. He attacked the Beni Kinana, the Beni Assad’s cousins by mistake. Here, he addresses Hind, his sister, (or daughter) complaining to her of his anguish.

1- ﺃﻻ ﻴﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻑﹶ ﻫِ ﻨﹾ ﺩٍ ﺇ ﺜﹾ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻫ ﻡ ﻜﺎﻨﻭﺍ ﺍﻟﺸﱢﻔﺎﺀ، ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻡ ﻴﺼﺎﺒﻭﺍ 1- O Hind’s heart pangs! Those I’ve pursued, well-armed;

265 The Beni Handhal had treacherously handed over the poet’s uncle, Shurahbil, to his enemies. Shurahbil was then immediately slain by ‘Abu Hanash ‘al-Taghlibi. 266 “Himyar”, “`Udas” and “Ast” were of the Beni Handhal whom the Poet reviles as treacherous. He reserves especial loathing for “Ast” whom he describes as a lowly beast of burden led by a strap.

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if caught, your pains would soothe; have ‘scaped unharmed.

2- ﻭﻗﹶﺎﻫﻡ ﺠ ﺩ ﻫ ﻡ ﺒِ ﺒ ﻨ ﻲ ﺃَﺒﻴﻬِﻡ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﺸﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻤﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻘﹶ ﺎ ﺏ 2- From punishment, their brothers had them freed, Yet both, to be punished, shall be decreed.267

3- ﻭ ﺃ ﻓﹾ ﻠﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﻋِ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ، ﺠ ﺭِ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻟﹶﻭ ﺃَ ﺩ ﺭ ﻜﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﺼ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻭﻁﹶﺎﺏِ 3- On “`Ilba’s” tracks set off many a steed. If him they caught, they would have done the deed268

[72] ﻴﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ “O Selma’s home"

1- ﻴﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﺴﻠﹾﻤﻰ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺴ ﺎﹰ ﻨﹸﺅﻴﻬﺎ ﺒﺎﻟﺭﻤلِ ﻓ ﺎ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺜﹶ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻋ ﺎ ﻗِ لِ 1- O Selma’s home! Whose sand banks have blown away269 That once at “Aqil’s” gentle slopes did lay

2- ﺼ ﻡ ﺼﺩﺍﻫﺎ ﻭﻋﻔﹶﺎ ﺭﺴﻤﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﺠ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻥ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻁِ ﻕِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﺌِ لِ 2- Is mute when called; leveled without a trace. Tongue-tied a caller is at such a place.

3- ﻴﺎ ﺴ ﻠﹾ ﻡ ﻫ لْ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻨ ﺎ ﺌِ لٌ ﻟ ﻠ ﻤ ﺭ ﺀِ ﺫﻱ ﺍ ﻷ ﻜ ﺭ ﻭ ﻤ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﺎ ﻀِ لِ 3- O Selm! Have you aught that you can give270 to one who does in gen’rous honour live?

4- ﺍﻟﺤﺎﻓِﻅﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻷ ﻤِ ﻴ ﻥِ ﺍﻟﱠﺫﻱ ﻻ ﺘﹶﺭﻫﺒﻴﻥ، ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ﺎ ﺌِ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﺎ ﻋِ لِ 4- One who in full faith keeps his secrets deep. One you’ll not fear, who to his word will keep.

267 The Beni Kinana saved their brothers (Their cousins, in fact) from retribution, but paid the price. 268 Ilba b. `al-Harith `al Kahili was the one who killed Imru’ul Qays’s father. 269 A tent’s lower ends were sand–banked for reinforcement. The tent removed, its former site remained identifiable by the sand banks that once surrounded it. Even these sand banks, he says, have blown away. 270 Selm: for Selma.

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5- ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺃ ﺭ ﺸِ ﺒ ﻬ ﺎﹰ ﻟِﺴﻠﹶﻴﻤﻰ ﺍﻟﱠﺘﻲ ﻋ ﻠﱠ ﻘﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻅﱠﺒﻴﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺎ ﺌِ لِ 5- Sulayma, whom love has so firmly fraught.271 Is like a hind, in hunter’s snares, is caught.

6- ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹸ ﻐﹾ ﺫﹶ ﺒﺎﻟﺒﺅﺱِ ﺴﻠﹶﻴﻤﻰ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹸ ﻀ ﺢِ ﻷَ ﻫ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻭﺍﻟ ﺠ ﺎ ﻫِ لِ 6- Sulayma has ne’er by hard times been drained. Ne’er basked in scenic spots; by drab unpained.272

7- ﻗﹸﻭﻻ ﺨﹶﻠﻴﻠﻲ ﻟﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﺫِ لِ ﻫ لْ ﻴ ﺠ ﻌ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺭ ﻜﺎﻟﻌﺎﺩِلِ 7- One, friends, is by love struck; one by lust. Is treatment of the just same as th’ unjust?

8- ﻫ لْ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺩ ﺃَ ﻅﹾ ﻬ ﺭ ﻓﻲ ﻗﹶﻭﻤِﻪ ﻋ ﺫﹾ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻜﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﺴ ﺎ ﺭ ﻉ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺎ ﻁِ لِ 8- Is honest man, who to his folk speaks true At one with who to what is false speeds through?

9- ﺃَ ﻡ ﻫ لْ ﺫﻭﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﻲ ﻜ ﺄَ ﻫ لِ ﺍﻟﺤِﺠﺎ ﺃَﻡ ﻫ لْ ﺭ ﺸ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﻷ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻜﺎﻟﺠﺎﻫِلِ 9- Are those depraved at one with those who’re wise? Are th’ judicious, and fools, in th’ self-same guise?

10- ﻗﹸﻭﻻ ﻟ ﺒِ ﺭ ﺼ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻋﺒﻴﺩِ ﺍﻟﻌﺼﺎ ﻤﺎ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﺴ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺎ ﺴِ لِ 10- Ask many a leprous and stick-driv’n slave, “why your upstart attempt on lion so brave?”

11- ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﻭ ﻉِ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬِ ﻼﹶ لِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭ ﻴ ﺤِ ﻲِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺍ ﺼِ لِ 11- As crescent moon in heaven’s high was he. Of bounty, king; whose bounty gave most free.

12- ﺠِﺌْﻨﹶﺎ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺸﹶ ﻬ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤ ﻠ ﻤ ﻭ ﻤ ﺔﹰ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لَ ﺒ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﻠﱠ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺎ ﻓِ لِ 12- So thick our muster of red-russet steed. As thick as forest is, with “Basham” treed.273

271 Sulayma: an affectionate diminutive for Selma. 272 Her attractions are those of primeval virgin innocence; she has not been over-elated by grand beauty, nor has been downcast by misery and ugliness.

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13- ﻭ ﻫ ﻥ ﺃ ﺭ ﺴ ﺎ لٌ ﻜﹶ ﺭِ ﺠ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺒ ﻲِ ﺍﻭ ﻜﹶﻘﹶﻁﺎ ﻜﺎﻅﻤﺔﹰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨ ﺎ ﻫِ لِ 13- As locust swarms are thick, as fowl in flight to “Kazima” t’drink; so keen were steeds to fight.274

14- ﻨﹶ ﻁﹾ ﻌ ﻨﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﺴﻠﹾﻜﻰ ﻭ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﺠ ﺔﹰ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻙ ﻷ ﻤِ ﻴ ﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻨ ﺎ ﺒِ لِ 14- At them we struck, head-on ‘nd from either side. As mounted lancer th’ lone bowman defied.

15- ﻭﺍﺒﻥ ﺤ ﺫ ﺍ ﺭٍ ﻅ لﱠ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶﻭﻓِﻨﺎ ﻴ ﻐ ﻤ ﺭ ﻤﺜل ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﻋ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﻗِ لِ 15- Those who, by us, were so bestruck with fear. Like th’ mountain elks that keep from hunt’r clear.

16- ﺃ ﺤ ﺯ ﻥ ﻟﻭ ﺃ ﺴ ﻬ لَ ﺃَﺤﺫﹶﻴﺘﹸﻪ ﺒِ ﻌ ﺎ ﻤِ ﻠٍ ﻰ ﻓﻲ ﺨﹸ ﺭ ﺹٍ ﺫ ﺍ ﺒِ لِ 16- To high and roughest ground it flees in fear, In flat of land I’d give the elk my spear.

17- ﻻ ﺘﹶﺴﻘِﻨﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﺇﻥ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺭﻭﺍ ﻗﹶﺘﻠﹶﻰ ﻓِ ﺌ ﺎ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺒﺄﺒﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔ ﺎ ﻀِ لِ 17- I’ll not take wine until I behold my father’s foes in scores lie dead and cold.

18- ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃﺒﻴﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻙٍ ﻗﹶ ﺘ ﻼﹰ ﻭ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴ ﺸ ﺭ ﻑﹸ ﻤﻥ ﻜ ﺎ ﻫِ لِ 18- Till I “Malik” in their own homeland slay. and those of “Kahil” that may come my way.275

19- ﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻏﹶ ﻨﹾ ﻡٍ ﺒﻥ ﺩ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍ ﻥ ﺍﺫ ﻨﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺫ ﻑﹸ ﺃﻋﻼﹶﻫﻡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﻓِ لِ 19- “Beni Ghanm bin Dowdan” must also go Their highest ‘pon their lowest shall we throw.

20- ﺇﺫ ﻴ ﺴ ﺄ لُ ﺍﻟﺴﺎﺌلُ ﻤ ﻥ ﻫﺅﻻﺀ ﺃﻋﻴﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺴ ﺅ لِ ﻭﺍﻟﺴﺎﺌِلِ 20- “Who are these dead”? a questioner may ask. Replies t’ questions will be a tiresome task.

273 “Basham”: a species of tree that grow thickly together, forming dense forests. 274 The horse mustered to fight his foes are thickly packed together as locust swarms, and swift as desert fowl in flight to “Kazima”, near , to drink. 275 “Malik” and “Kalil”: clans of the Beni Assad who slew his father.

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21- ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻠﹸ ﻭ ﻫ ﻡ ﺒﺎﻟﺒِﻴﺽِ ﻤ ﺴ ﻨﹸ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﺔٍ ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﻴﺭﻭﺍ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﺒِ لِ 21- We’ll rise to them with blades keen-edged and wide And cast them like deadwood along th’ way side.

22- ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻫﺭ ﺫﺍ ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻫﺭ ﻓﻲ ﺼ ﺭ ﻓِ ﻪِ ﻴ ﻤ ﻜِ ﻥ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻭِ ﺘﹾ ﺭِ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ﺎ ﺘِ لِ 22- Time goes by turns, and turns of time may lead One to the kill’r who’d done the dastard deed.

23- ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺕﹾ ﻟﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﻤ ﺭ ﺃً ﻋ ﻥ ﺸﹸﺭﺒِﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺸﹸ ﻐ لٍ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻏِ لِ 23- And then, I’ll let myself partake of wine Before, engrossed was I ‘n that deed, of mine276

24- ﻓﺎﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻓ ﺄ ﺸﹾ ﺭ ﺏ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻘِ ﺏٍ ﺇﺜ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﺍﷲ ﻭﻻ ﻭ ﺍ ﻏِ لِ 24- That day, of all guilt free, I’ll drink with glee. From wrong absolved; involved not I shall be.277

25- ﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺍ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺒ ﻠﱢ ﻎﹾ ﺇﺨﹾﻭﺍﻨﹶﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻥ ﻜﺎﻥ ﻤِﻥ ﻜِﻨﹾﺩﻩ ﺍﻭ ﻭ ﺍ ﺌِ لِ 25- O rider! Our brethren tell without fail. From Kinda or from Wa`il may they hail.

26- ﻟِﻴﺠﻠِﺴﻭﺍ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻥ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻫ ﻡ ﻀ ﺭ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺯِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨ ﺎ ﺫِ لِ 26- Let them take rest, for them the task we spared. of striking cowards who, to fight, ne’er dared.

[73] ﺃﻻ ﺤ ﻲﱢ ﺍﺒﻨﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻭِ ﻱ ﻤ ﻴ ﺎﹰ “Great Ghanawi’s daughter “Mayy”.

1- ﺃﻻ ﺤ ﻲ ﺍﺒﻨﺔﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﻨﹶ ﻭ ﻱ ﻤ ﻴ ﺎﹶ ﻭﺇﻥ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺕﹾ ﻨﻭﺍﻫﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻨﹶﻭﻴﺎ 1- “Ghanawi” ‘s daughter “Mayy”, I warmly greet, though far away she be for me to meet.

276 He will not take wine till he has had his vengeance. 277 The guilt he is burdened with is his father remaining unavenged. With vengeance accomplished, he will be happily free from guilt and all involvement, and could take to wine with glee.

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2- ﻟﹶ ﻌ ﻤ ﺭ ﻙ ﺇﻨﱠﻨﻲ ﻷُ ﺤِ ﺏ ﻤ ﻴ ﺎﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺤ ﺏ ﻤ ﺤ ﻸٍ ﻅ ﻤ ﺂ ﻥ ﺭِﻴﺎ 2- Upon your life! I’m deep in love with “Mayy” As one who’s parched, from drink is turned away.

3- ﻭﻟﻭ ﺇﻨﱠﻨﻲ ﺃُﺨﹶﻴﺭ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤ ﻲ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔِ ﻨ ﺎ ﻋِ ﻡٍ ﻻﹶ ﺨ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻴﺎ 3- If I’m to choose ‘tween “Mayy”, and night with soft wom’n spent; ‘tis “Mayy” I’d choose outright.

4- ﺃﻻ ﻴﺎ ﻤ ﻲ ﺇ ﻨﱠ ﻙِ ﺃ ﻨ ﺕِ ﻤﻴﺎ ﺃ ﻋ ﺯ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱِ ﻜﹸﻠﱢﻬِﻡ ﻋﻠﹶﻴﺎ 4- O “Mayy”! The only “Mayy” you’ll ever be Of all dear people; you’ll dearest be to me.

[74] ﻋ ﺠِ ﺒ ﺕﹸ ﻟِ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕٍ “I wond’rd at night lightning”.

1- ﻋ ﺠِ ﺒ ﺕﹸ ﻟِ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺒِ ﻠﹶ ﻴ لٍ ﺃ ﻫ لّْ ﻴ ﻀ ﺊُ ﺴ ﻨ ﺎ ﻩ ﺒِﺄﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺒ لْْ 1- I wond’rd at night lightning’s thundering streak. Whose flash lighted the highest mountain peak.

2- ﺃﺘﺎﻨﻲ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺙﹲ ﻓﹶ ﻜﹶ ﺫﱠ ﺒ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻭ ﺃ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺯ ﻋ ﺯ ﻉ ﻤِ ﻨ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ﻠﹶ لْ 2- To me came talk whose truth I could not take: A deed that’d make towering mountains quake.

3- ﻟﻘﺘل ﺒﻨﻲ ﺃَ ﺴ ﺩٍ ﺭﺒﻬﺎ ﺃﻻ ﻜ لﱡ ﺸﹶﺊ ﺴﻭﺍﻩ ﺠ ﻠﹶ لْ 3- Beni Assad murd’ring their lord; foul deed! No oth’r enormity need one ever heed.

4- ﻓﹶ ﺄ ﻴ ﻥ ﺭﺒﻴﻌﺔﹸ ﻋ ﻥ ﺭﺒﻬﻡ ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺴﻜﻭﻥ ﻭ ﺃ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨِ ﻭ لْ 4- Where are “Rabi`a”? when their lord was well. In peace they basked and did in comfort dwell.

5- ﺃﻻ ﻴﺤﻀﺭﻭﻥ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺒ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻜﻤﺎ ﻴﺤﻀﺭﻭﻥ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻜﹶ لْ 5- Hadn’t they, their way, t’ his door, so read’ly beat? And came to feast when he was at his meat!

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[75] ﻁ ﺎ لَ ﺍﻟﺯﻤﺎﻥ “I’m tired of time”

1- ﻁ ﺎ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﺯ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥ ﻭﻤﻠﱠﻨﻲ ﺃﻫﻠﻲ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﻜﹶ ﻭ ﺕﹸ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤﻥ ﺠ ﻤل ِ 1- I’m tired of time; my folk of me have tired. In mires of distance I’ve been mired.

2- ﻫ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺒ ﺙﱡ ﺃَﺭﻗﻨﻲ ﻭﺍﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻬ ﺕﹸ ﻓﺄﻨﺘﹸﻡ ﺸﹸﻐﹾﻠﻲ 2- At night, awake I lay; by care well-caught. But when alert, tis you who’s in my thought.

3- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻭ لُ ﺠ ﻤ لٌ ﻗﺩ ﻜﺒﺭﺕ ﻭ ﺸﹶ ﻔﱠ ﻙ ﺍﻟﺤﺩﺜﺎﻥ ﺒﺎﺒﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺒﺎﻷﺯل ِ 3- You’d say hard times had you engriefed and pained. Son of good house whose goodness had been drained.

4- ﻓﹶﻠﺌﻥ ﻫ ﻠﹶ ﻜﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻘﺩ ﻋ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺕِ ﺒﺄﻨﻨﻲ ﺤ ﻠﹾ ﻭ ﺍﻟﺸﹶﻤﺎﺌِل ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺩ ﺍﻷﺼل ِ 4- When I perish, consoled I then would rest. In my good nature, my lineage of th’ best.

5- ﻭ ﻟ ﺭ ﺏ ﻤ ﺎ ﺠِ ﺩ ﺓِ ﺍﻟﺠﺩﻭﺩ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﻭﺍﺼﻠﹾﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻤ ﺘﱠ ﻊِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺼ لِ 5- I yearn for wom’n, of finest lineage born. Who would my time of love with her adorn.

6- ﺭ ﺍ ﻗﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻓﺅﺍﺩﻱ ﺇﺫ ﻋ ﺭ ﻀ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻬﺎ ﺒِﺩﻻﻟِﻬﺎ ﻭﻜﹶﻼﻤِﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺭﺘ ـْل ِ 6- Who’d please my heart; her sweetness pure delights. Her lovely talk lifts me t’ecstatic heights.

7- ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﺞ ﺭﻭﺍﺩِﻓﹸﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﺭِﻴﻘِﻬﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺴ ﻼ ﻓﹶ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻨﺤل ِ 7- So fair of skin; at walk her thighs swing free. 130

Her mouth’s moisture: nectar of honey-bee.

8- ﻴﺠﻠﻭ ﺘﹶﺒﺴﻤﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻅﻼﻡ ﺭِ ﺒ ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻜﺎﻟﻤِﺼﺒﺎﺡِ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺫ ﱡﺒل ِ 8- Her widest smiles turn darkness t’brightest light. As wide-wicked lamps a night’s dark gloom enbright.

9- ﻭﻏﹶﺩﺕ ﻓﹶﺄﺴﻤﻌﻬﺎ ﻭﺃَﻓﹾﻬﻤﻬﺎ ﺇﻤﺎ ﻏﹶﺩﻭﻨﺎ ﻓﺄﻓﻌﻠﻲ ﻓﹶﻌﻠِﻲ 9- On eve of leaving, I with much ado with her I plead to do what I shall do.278

10- ﻭﺩﻋﺘﹸﻬﺎ ﺇﺫ ﺭ ﻤ ﺕﹸ ﻓ ـُ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﺃﻨﹼﻰ ﻟﻜﻡ ﻴﺎ ﺨﹸﻠﹼﺘﻲ ﻤِﺜﹾﻠﻲ 10- I bid farewell, when we were set to part. “One like me” I said, “you’ll ne’er find, dear heart”.

11- ﺇﻨﹼﻰ ﻟﹶ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺤِ ﺼ ﻥ ﻴ ﺴِ ﺭ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻭ ﺒِ ﺴ ﺅْ ﻟِ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﻤﺘ ـَﺒﺫ ﱠل ِ ﺍﻟﺒﺫﹾل ِ 11- To you a fort am I; your secrets here shall live. And it is I who all you ask shall give.

12- ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﺍﺭﻯ ﻜ لّ ﻤﻨﹾﺘﹶﻔِﺦ ٍ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺍﻟﺜﻨﻰ ﻤﻘﺎﺒل ﺍﻟﺒﺯل ِ 12- The virgins upon mounts with widest side. Big beasts did th’ trav’lling virgins ride.

13- ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺤ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﻥ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤ ﺫﹶ ﻜﱠ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺯ ﻴ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺔٍ ﺘﹶ ﺨﹾ ﺘ ﺎ لُ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﺭ ﺤ لِ 13- On cam’l- like horse I followed in their wake. My swagg’ring mount as jaunty as a rake.

14- ﻓﹶ ﻅﹶ ﻠِ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺭ ﻭ ﻀ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻤﺤﻨِﻴﺔٍ ﺒ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌِ ﻀ ﺎ ﻩِ ﻭﺴﺎﻤِﻕ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻘﹾ لِ 14- They rested where the orchard water flows By verdant leas where tallsome produce grows

15- ﻓﹶ ﺴ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﻨ ﻲ ﺼ ﻬ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﺼ ﺎ ﻓِ ﻴ ﺔﹰ ﻭ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻥ ﺤ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺱِ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟ ﻌ ﻘﹾ لِ 15- They served me wine; so clear and finely made

278 When its time to part with her, he asks her, to do what he does, i.e to part happily, each going his own way, full of joyous memories of the delightful affair.

131

From heat of sun we sat in cool of shade

16- ﻭ ﻴ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﻥ ﺃﻁﻌِﻤﻨﺎ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﻀ ﻨﹶ ﻴ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﺎ ﻭ ﺤ ﺒ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻬ ﻤ ﻪٍ ﻤ ﺤ لِ 16- “Meat!” they asked “with you we feel so drained, as if you’ve us in barren wastes detained”.

17- ﻓﹶ ﺴ ﻌ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻭ ﻤ ﻁِ ﻴ ﺘ ﻲ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻬ ﻨﱠ ﺩٍ ﻋ ﻀ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺭ ﻴ ﻬ ﺔِ ﻤ ﻭ ﺸِ ﻙ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﺼل ِ 17- I, to my mount in quick some dart did dash. With sharpest sword, so ready for the slash.

18- ﻓﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹸﺒﺘﹶﻬﺎ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺇﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﺌﻴﻡ ﺃ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺒﺎﻟﺒﺨﹾل ِ 18- I pierced its heart, in th’ state in which it stood. The miser’s mean, and I’m not mean with food.

19- ﻓﹶ ﺤ ﻤِ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭ ﺫﹶ ﻤ ﻤ ﻥ ﻜﹸ لﱠ ﻤﺯﻨ ـﱠ ﺩٍ ﻋ ﺒ ﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﺔِ ﻓ ﺎ ﺤ ﺵٍ ﻭﻏﹾل ِ 19- For meat they were with gratitude imbued And cursed those who on people’s fare intrude

20- ﻴﺎ ﻗﹶ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻲ ﺘﹶﻭﺯﻋﺎ ﺭﺤﻠِﻲ ﺴ ﻴ ﺨِ ﻑﱡ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻋﻨﹾﻜﹸﻤﺎ ﺭﺤﻠﻲ 20- My mount, dear maids, is yours; and in a day. I shall remove myself; be on my way.

21- ﻭ ﻜﹸ ﻼﹶ ﻤﻌِﻲ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻟﹶ ﺤ ﻡ ﺭﺍﺤِﻠﹶﺘﻲ ﻭ ﻤ ﻊ ﺍﻟﻌﺫﹶﺍﺭﻯ ﻓﺎﺘﹾﺭﻜﺎ ﻋﺫ ﻟﻲ 21- On my mount’s meat let us together feast And let my love e’er dwell in maidens’ breast

[76] ﺼﺤﺎ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻗﹶﻠﹾﺒﻲ “My heart no longer rails”

1- ﺼﺤﺎ ﺍﻟﻴﻭﻡ ﻗﹶﻠﹾﺒﻲ ﻤِﻥ ﻟِ ﻤ ﻴ ﺱ ﻭﺃَﻗﹾﺼﺭﺍ ﻭ ﺠ ﻥ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﻤﺎ ﺠ ﻥ ﺜﹸ ﻤ ﺕﹶ ﺃﺒﺼﺭﺍ 1- With love, “Lamees,” my heart no longer rails. Once mad; t’see sense it now no longer fails.

2- ﻭ ﺫﹶ ﺍ ﻙ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﻴ ﺏ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺭﺃﺱِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻋ ﻪ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺎ لَ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟِ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺃﻻ ﻗﺩ ﺘﹶ ﻐﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍ 2- My heart with fear of graying hair ‘s deranged. 132

Those caressing it say: “your hair has changed!”

3- ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎ ﻤﺎ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻋ ﺠِ ﺒ ﺕﹸ ﻤِﻥ ﺍﻟﻔﹶﺘﻰ ﺘﹸ ﺒ ﺩ ﻟﹸ ﻪ ﺍ ﻷ ﻴ ﺎ ﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﺩﻫﺭ ﺃﻋﺼﺭﺍ 3- What I see of the change in youth, is strange, As if ages, not days, that make for change

4- ﻓﺈﻥ ﻴ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﺫﺍ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺎ ﺏٍ ﻓﺈﻨﱠﻬﺎ ﺴ ﺘﹸ ﺨﹾ ﻠِ ﻔﹸ ﻪ ﺸﹶﻴﺒ ﺎﹰ ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻘ ﺎﹰ ﻤﺤﺴﺭﺍ 4- In one evening, a fine youth you may see. In another, so fleshless and greyhaired he’ll be.

5- ﻭﻟﻭ ﺨﹸ ﻴ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻭﻨﹶﻴﻥ ﺃﻴﻬﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻟﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺎ لَ ﺴِﻭﻯ ﻫﺫﺍ ﻭﻟﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺃﺯﻫﺭﺍ 5- If he was giv’n to choose from dark or fair, Though fairest th’fair be, f’r neither would he care.

6- ﻟﹶ ﻘ ﺩ ﺃﺼﺒﺢ ﺍﻟﻔﺘﻴﺎﻥ ﺼ ﻬ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﺼِ ﻔﹾ ﻭ ﺓﹰ ﻤ ﻌ ﺘﱠ ﻘﹶ ﺔﹰ ﺼِ ﺭ ﻓ ﺎﹰ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻴ ﻙ ﺃﺴﺤﺭﺍ 6- I served young men wine; with age well it grew. We quaffed clear wine till cock its call it crew.

7- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﹶ ﺎ لَ ﻤِﻨﻬﻡ ﻟﻲ ﺍﻟﹼﺫﻱ ﻟِ ﻴ ﺱ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺭِ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺃﺭﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜِ ﻨ ﺩِ ﻱ ﻟﺫ ﱠ ﻭﺃﺴﻬﺭﺍ 7- One of the group, who drinks not, says to me: “I see the Kindite king ’s merry and free”.

8- ﻭﻏﹶﻴﺙ ﻤ ﺭ ﺜﹾ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻴ ﺢ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﻋ ﺜﹶ ﻡ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺒ ﻬ ﻲ ﺘﹸﻨﹶﺎﺼﻴﻪ ﺍﻟﻭﺤﻭﺵﹸ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺍﺜﹾﻤﺭﺍ 8- Wind-blown pastures; with verdure thick and lush. Up to the height of beasts in growth they gush.

9- ﺇﺫﺍ ﺭ ﺠ ﻔﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻓﻴﻪ ﺭ ﺤ ﺎﹰ ﻤ ﺭ ﺠ ﺤِ ﻨﱠ ﺔﹲ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻌ ﺞ ﺒﺎﻟﺭﻋﺩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺒ ﻲ ﻤﺴﻴﺭﺍ 9- And thunder’s groan, like heavy grindstones turns. Low lying clouds it splits, it swirls, it churns.

10- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻭﻻﻴﺎ ﻨﹸﺸﱢﺭﺕ ﻓﻲ ﺘِ ﻼ ﻋِ ﻪِ ﻭ ﺃَ ﻋ ﻼﹶ ﻕﹶ ﺘﹸ ﺠ ﺎ ﺭٍ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡ ﺃَﻅﹾﻬﺭﺍ 10- The grove’s ditches, with flow’ry hues enriched, ‘re like “Hirite” cushions, with flowers bestiched.

11- ﻫ ﺒ ﻁﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻌ ﺭ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻁﹶﻭﻴلٍ ﻗﹶﺫﺍﻟﻪ ﻴ ﺒ ﺫﱡ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻤ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒ ﺎ ﺩِ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭﻤﻀﻤﺭﺍ

133

11- To th’field I came, on stoutest straight-formed steed. Against host, sparse or thick, ready for th’deed..

12- ﻗﹶﺼﺭﻨﺎ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻪِ ﺒ ﺎ ﻟﹾ ﻤ ﻘ ﻴ ﻅِ ﻟﻘﺎﺤﻨﹶﺎ ﻓ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢ ﺨ ﻭ ﺍ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻌِﻨﺎﻥ ﻤﺼﺩﺭﺍ 12- The milch-camels it kept in summer’s heat. It brayed like camel; soft in chest and seat.279

13- ﻓ ﺄ ﻨ ﺕﹶ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﺩ ﺒ ﺭ ﺘ ﻪ ﺴ ﺩ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﺠ ﻪ ﺒِ ﻀ ﺎ ﻑٍ ﻓﹸ ﻭ ﻴ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻷَ ﺭ ﺽِ ﻟﻴﺱ ﺒﺄﺯﻋﺭﺍ 13- If viewed from rear, his hind is covered well, By fullest tail, just short of ground it fell

14- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺃَ ﻴ ﻁﹶ ﻼ ﻥِ ﺠﻨﱢﺒﺎ ﻋ ﻥ ﺸﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺴِ ﻑٍ ﻜﹶ ﺤِ ﻨﹾ ﻭِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘِ ﺴِ ﻲ ﺃُ ﻨﹾ ﻌِ ﻤ ﺕﹾ ﺃﻥ ﺘﹸ ﺅَ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﺍ 14- It’s ribs proceed, till th’ slender waist they claim. They hold th’belly in firm and tightest frame.

15- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺤ ﺎ ﺭِ ﻙ ﻓﹶ ﻌ ﻡ ﺃ ﺸﹶ ﻡ ﻤ ﻼ ﺀ ﻡ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺃ ﻟﹼ ﻑﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺒِﻴﻁﹶ ﺍﻟﻤﻀﺒﺭﺍ 15- It’s back, hard-packed; it high and mighty stood . Like woodwork fine a joiner joins from wood.

16- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻋ ﻨﹾ ﻕﹲ ﻜﺎ ﻟ ﺠِ ﺫﹾ ﻉِ ﺸﹸ ﺫﹶِ ﺏ ﻟِ ﻴ ﻔﹸ ﻪ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺩﻨﹶﺎ ﻗِ ﻨ ﻭ ﺍ ﻨﹸ ﻪ ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺃَﺒﺴﺭﺍ 16- A neck like palm tree which is shaved and pruned So much, so that its fruit is dry, and ruin’d. 280

17- ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺃُ ﺫﹸ ﻥ ﺭﻴﺎ ﻜﹶ ﻌ ﻠﱠ ﻴ ﻁِ ﻤ ﺭ ﺨﹶ ﺔٍ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺩﻨﺎ ﺍﻟﻤﻜﹾﻨﹸﻭﺯ ﻤِﻨﻬﺎ ﻟِ ﻴ ﻌ ﺼ ﺭ ﺍ 17- It’s ears like wide, succ’lent leaves of “Markh” trees, that pickers climb to pick, the leaves to squeeze.281

18- ﻭﻨﹶﺎﺼﻴﺔﹲ ﻏﹶ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀ ﻜﺎﻟﻔﹶﺭﻉِ ﺭ ﺴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺨﹶ ﻁﱢ ﺸِ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺥٍ ﻟ ﻪ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﺃَﻤﻌﺭﺍ 18- Hirsute he is; his goodly mane blows free. So does the forelock. Hairless not is he.

279 “It” refers to the horse. The horse was kept to herd milch-camels during summer grazing. It took on the characteristics of the camel. 280 The horse’s long finely-arched neck looks as if it had been formed by excess of labour; such labour as goes in pruning palm trees. 281 The leaves of the “Markh” trees were pressed. The juice was used in perfume and medicinal preparations.

134

19- ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﺩ ﺃَﺴﻴلٌ ﻜ ﺎ ﻟ ﻤِ ﺴ ﻥ ﻭ ﺒِ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﺅْ ﺠ ﺅِ ﻫ ﻴ ﻕٍ ﺯِ ﻓﱡ ﻪ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺘﹶﻤﻭﺭﺍ 19- His cheek that of a fine lad ‘bout to wed. His breast, like ostrich whose plumes had been shed.

20- ﻟﻪ ﻤ ﺤِ ﺼ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻓﹶ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﺨﹶ ﻀ ﺭ ﻤ ﻼﹶ ﻁِ ﺱٍ ﺭ ﻜ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻕٍ ﻜﹸ ﻠﱡ ﻪ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﺃَﻋﺴﺭﺍ 20- Has doughty limbs that rise on solid hoof Nothing he has that stands in fault aloof 282

21- ﻭ ﺼ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﺘﹶ ﻤِ ﻴ ﻡ ﻴ ﺒ ﻬ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﱢﺒﺩ ﺠ ﻭ ﺯ ﻩ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﻤﻁﹼﻰ ﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤِ ﺯ ﺍ ﻡِ ﺘﹶﺒﺘﱠﺭﺍ 21- He bursts with vig’r; throughout his frame it raps. Such vig’r that snaps his tightened saddle-straps.

22- ﺩﻋﺎﻨﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺭ ﻗ ﻴ ﺏ ﺩ ﻋ ﻭ ﺓﹰ ﻓ ﺄ ﺠ ﺒ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻓ ﻘ ﺎ لَ ﺃﻻ ﺃ ﺭ ﻜﹶ ﺏ ﺇﻥ ﺭ ﻜِ ﺒ ﺕﹶ ﻤﻴﺴﺭﺍ 22- My bodyguard asked me, and I complied. With ease, he said, he, my steed could ride.

23- ﺫﹶ ﻋ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻴ ﻭ ﻤ ﺎﹰ ﻓ ﺄ ﺼ ﺒ ﺤ ﺕﹸ ﻗ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺼ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢِ ﻤ ﻭ ﺸِ ﻲ ﺍﻟﻘﻭﺍﺌﻡ ﻤﻘﹾﻔِﺭﺍ 23- As mounted hunter, I thrill’d th’ prey with fright At morn, a spotted bull soon came in sight.

24- ﻓﹶﺼﻭﺒﺘﹸﻪ ﻜﺄﻨﻪ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺒ ﺔٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻷ ﻤ ﻌ ﺯِ ﺍﻟﻀﺎﺤِﻲ ﺍﺫﺍ ﺍ ﺸﹾ ﺘ ﺩ ﺃﺤﻀﺭﺍ 24- I fell ‘pon it, as clouds let fall their rain in down pours ‘pon a sunlit, stony plain.

25- ﻓﹶ ﺒ ﻭ ﺃ ﺕﹸ ﺭﻤﺤِﻲ ﻗ ﺎ ﺩ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻓﹶ ﺤ ﺒ ﻭ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﺒِ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﻼﹶ ﺀ ﻴﻐﹾﺫﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺭ ﻏﹶ ﻬ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹶ ﻁﹼ ﺭ ﺍ 25- My ready lance a wide gash through it ripped. It fell, and blood from its gashed cut; dripped.

26- ﻓﹶ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴﺄﻤﻥ ﺍﻷﻴﺎﻡ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﺒ ﻥِ ﻫ ﺭ ﻤ ﺯٍ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﻥ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻜﻤﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺯ ﻟﹾ ﻥ ﺒِ ﻘﹶ ﻴ ﺼ ﺭ ﺍ 26- Who can trust th’ days, after “Ibn Hormuz”s day? To him some went; to Caesar some found way. 283

282 The stallion is perfectly formed. Nothing in him stands out as faulty.

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27- ﻭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻤ ﻌ ﺩ ﻴﺒﺘﹶﻐِﻲ ﺤِ ﺭ ﺯ ﻨﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺴِ ﻪِ ﺇﻟﻰ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﻑِ ﻏ ﺎ ﺭٍ ﻴ ﺤ ﺴِ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﻑﹶ ﺃﻭﻋﺭﺍ 27- After “Macad”, safety one needs to seek even in caves; though caves of charnel reek. 284

28- ﻓﹶ ﺼ ﺎ ﺩ ﻓﹾ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﺫ ﺍ ﺕﹶ ﻴ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻭﻟﹶﻡ ﻴ ﻜﹸ ﻥ ﻟِ ﻴ ﺴ ﺒِ ﻕﹶ ﻤﺎ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠ ﻴ ﻙ ﻭﻗﹶﺩﺭﺍ 28- The days intercepted him; he could not. get what a king had planned to get; and got.

29- ﻭ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺃﺒﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺤِ ﺼ ﻥِ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﺴﻴﺩﺍ ﻴ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﺠ ﻤ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺠ ﻴ ﻭ ﺵٍ ﻭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ 29- As my sire, Lord I’ll be of Kinda’s forts. With armies to command and Berber cohorts.

30- ﻭﻴﻐﹾﺯﻭﺍ ﺒﺄﻋﺭﺍﺏ ﺍﻟﻴﻤﺎﻨﻴﻴﻥ ﻜﹸ ﻠﱢ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻟﻪ ﺤﺘﻰ ﻴ ﺤ لﱠ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﹶﻘﱠﺭﺍ 30- With all Yemen’s Arabs to go on raid. All for me, till all swords are fin’lly laid.

[77] ﺒﻨﻲ ﺠﻤﻴﻠﺔ The Beni Jamila Clan

1- ﺒﻨﻲ ﺠ ﻤ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺃَﻨﱠﻰ ﻤِ ﻨ ﻬ ﻡ ﻏﹶ ﺎ ﺩِ ﺤ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍﻟﺭﺤﻴلُ ﻭﻟﻤﺎ ﻴﻨﹾﺠِﺯﻭﺍ ﺯﺍﺩِﻱ 1- From “Beni Jamila”, where am I to head? I leave, famished; as I they’ve not yet fed.

2- ﺃﻥ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﻅﹶ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻨﺎﺌِﻠﹶﻬﺎ ﺤﺘﻰ ﻫﻤﻤﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻬ ﺠ ﺭ ﺍ ﻥٍ ﻭﺇﺠﺩﺍﺩِ 2- Her I behold, and seek what she’d bestow. Yet her I’d leave, and her I would forego.

3- ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺍ ﺩ ﻜ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺒﺄﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﻥ ﻋ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻟﹶﺩﻴﻬﺎ ﻭﻟﻡ ﻴ ﺭ ﺤ لْ ﻟﻪ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺩِ 3- I then recalled; a captive was my heart. And it to ransom, none would e’er depart.

283 Those in need of assistance made their way to the Persian court of Ibn Hormuz’, or to Caesar’s court in Constantinople. Both courts, he complains, were unreliable. 284 “Maad” refers to those who slew his father. He yearns for safety after this traumatic event.

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4- ﻓ ﺎ ﺭ ﻓﹶ ﺽ ﺒﻌﺩ ﻫﺩﻭﺀ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱ ﻤﻥ ﺤ ﺯ ﻥٍ ﺩﻤﻌﻲ ﻭ ﺃَ ﺴ ﻠﹶ ﻤ ﻨ ﻲ ﻟِ ﻠﹾ ﻬ ﻡ ﻋﻭﺍﺩِﻱ 4- With folk at rest, through care my tears flow free. Comforters stir my cares; not comfort me.

5- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺭ ﺩ ﺡٍ ﻜﹶ ﺠ ﻨ ﺎ ﺡِ ﺍﻟﻨﱠﺴﺭ ﻴ ﺴ ﻤ ﻜﹸ ﻪ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘِ ﺴِ ﻲ ﻭﻟﹶﻡ ﻴﺸﹾﺩﺩ ﺒِ ﺄَ ﻭ ﺘ ﺎ ﺩِ 5- A tent I’ve raised, so like an eagle’s wings. Unpegged to ground, on “Qissi” shoots it clings285

6- ﺨﺎﻟﻲ ﺍﻟﺭﻭﺍﻕِ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻵ ﻓ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟِ ﺠ ﻪ ﺴ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﻭ ﻅ ﺎ ﻫِ ﺭ ﻩ ﺴﻴﻔﻲ ﻭ ﺃَ ﻗﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺎ ﺩِ ﻱ 6- From ev’ry fault, who enters finds it free. In front, my sword and saddling one can see.

7- ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﻭ ﺴ ﻁﹶ ﻪ ﻟﻠﻘﻭﻡ ﺇ ﺫﹾ ﻨﹶﺼﺒﻭﺍ ﻭ ﻅﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻓﻲ ﻋ ﻠﹶ ﻡٍ ﻤ ﻭ ﻑٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻭ ﺍ ﺩِ 7- I keep it for folk who’d a visit pay. Whilst I, on hills o’er looking valleys, stay.

8- ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﺃﺴﻌﻰ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹸ ﻠﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﺭﻭﺤﻭﺍ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﻜﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻨ ﻭ ﻡٍ ﻭ ﺇ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍ ﺩِ 8- To them I came running when they’d o’erstayed. “Enough” I said “you’ve had of rest and shade”.

9- ﻓﹶ ﺴ ﺭ ﺫﺍ ﺤ ﺯ ﻤِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻗﻭﻟﻲ ﻭﻁﹶﺎﻭﻋﻨِﻲ ﻭ ﺴ ﺅْ ﺕﹸ ﻜ لﱠ ﺜﻘﻴل ﺍﻟﺭﺃﺱِ ﻗﹶ ﻌ ﺎ ﺩِ 9- The tactful ‘mongst them saw that I made sense. The stubborn sitters; quick to take offence.

10- ﺭِ ﺨﹾ ﻭِ ﺍﻟﻤﻔﺎﺼِل ﺭ ﺙﱢ ﺍﻟﺤﺎل ﻤﻠ ﺘ ﺒِ ﺱٍ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﺍﻟﻔﻭﺍﺩ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺭ ﻴ ﻊ ﻤﻥ ﻋ ﺎ ﺩِ 10- They’re weak of joint; a tattered, pit’ful sight They’re faint of heart; of ev’ry foe take fright.

11- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻗﻴلَ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴ ﺴ ﺭ ﻭﻗﹶﺩ ﻫ ﺩ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻗِﻴلَ ﻤ ﻥ ﻫ ﺎ ﺩِ 11- “I’ve gambled”; if asked who th’gamblers are. “`Tis I ”if asked, “who saw the light from far”?.

285 “Qissi”: bamboo-like shoots, hard and straight, used to make tent-pegs. His tent covers the Qissi shoots in full growth, before being cut down for tent-pegs.

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12- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻁﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺒ ﻴ ﻭ ﺕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻤِ ﻼﹰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺩ ﻭ ﺀِ ﺭﻭﻴﺩ ﺨﹶ ﺘﹾ لَ ﻤﺼﻁﹶﺎﺩِ 12- To call at th’homelands houses, I have walked. At night, as stealthy hunt’r his prey had stalked.

13- ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃ ﺨ ﺫ ﺕﹸ ﺒِ ﻜﹶ ﻑﱟ ﺯ ﺍ ﻥٍ ﻤِ ﻌ ﺼ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺭ ﺠ ﻊ ﺍﻟﻭﺸﹶﻭﻡِ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹸﺨﹾﻠﹶﻕ ﻟﹶ ﻔ ﺌ ﺎ ﺩِ 13- Until a hand I took. Fine scents adorn its wrists. To cook and roast it was not born.

14- ﺜﹸ ﻡ ﺍ ﻏ ﺘ ﻤ ﺭ ﺕﹸ ﺴ ﺭ ﺍ ﺓﹶ ﺍﻟﻠﻴل ﺘﹸﻠﹾﺒِﺴﻨﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﹶﺠﻡ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﱠﺴﺭ ﻭﺍﻟﺠﻭﺯﺍﺀ ﺸﹸﻬﺎﺩِﻱ 14- Beclothed with nights’ attire, I then walk free. The stars, th’eagle, th’zenith, my witnesses be.

[78] ﺍﻥ ﺍﻟﺨﻠﻴﻁ ﻨ ﺄ ﻭ ﻙ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﻤ ﺱِ “A motley crew left yesterday”

1- ﺍﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﻠ ﻴ ﻁﹶ ﻨ ﺄ ﻭ ﻙ ﺒ ﺎ ﻷ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﻘﹶ ﻨ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻔِ ﺭ ﺍ ﻗِ ﻬِ ﻡ ﻨﹶﻔﹾﺴﻲ 1- A motley crew, left yest’rday; ‘nd I, alone, I, of myself, yet more of it have known.

2- ﻭ ﻏﹶ ﺩ ﻭ ﺍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺨﹸ ﻭ ﺹِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻭ ﻥِ ﺴ ﻭ ﺍ ﻫِ ﻡِ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لِ ﺍﻟﺴﻤﺎﻡِ ﺨﹸ ﻠِ ﻘﹾ ﻥ ﻟﻠﹾﻤﻠﺱ 2- They left on deep–eyed camels, fast of pace. Like swift “samam” that run ahead in race286

3- ﻭ ﺒِ ﻜﹸ لﱢ ﻨﹶﻀﺎﺥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺫﱢ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍ ﺨﹶ لِ ﺍﻟﺫﹼﻓﹾﺭﻱ ﺃَ ﻗﹶ ﺏ ﻤ ﻀ ﺎ ﻋ ﻑِ ﺍﻟﺤِﻠﹾﺱ ِ 3- The camels’ sweat, from neck, so freely fell on matted hair; their teeth grind hard and well.

4- ﺒﺎﻨﻭﺍ ﻭﻓﻴﻬﻡ ﺤ ﺭ ﺓﹲ ﻤﻴﺎﻟﺔﹲ ﺤ ﻭ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺁ ﻨ ﺴ ﺔﹲ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﱡﻌﺱ ِ 4- With them appeared a swaying, free-born maid. Sloe-eyed; with dark make-up her lips were made.

5- ﻤﻠِﺌَﺕ ﺘﹶﺭﺍﺌِﺒﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﻉ ﻭِﺸﺎﺤﻬﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﺒﻭﺹ ﻴ ﺸﹾ ﺒِ ﻪ ﺭ ﻤ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﺩﻫﺱ ِ

286 “Samam”: a species of flightless, swift–running bird.

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5- Her bosom full, her belly tender-tight. Her rear like sand of softest soil and light.

6- ﻭ ﺠ ﺒ ﺎ ﺌِ ﺭ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤ ﺎ ﻟِ ﺞ ﻓﻲ ﻤِ ﻌ ﺼ ﻡٍ ﻏﹶ ﻴ لٍ ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﻑﱟ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻨﹶ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻤﺱ ِ 6- Her wrist well formed, and laid with musk and balm. Her arm is long; when touch’d, is soft her palm.

7- ﻓﻜﺄﻨﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻏﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺒ ﻘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺸ ﻤ ﻭ ﻻﹰ ﺒ ﺎ ﺭ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﺍﻭ ﻤ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻤﻥ ﻤ ﺎ ﺌِ ﻊ ﺍﻟﺠﻠﹾﺱ ِ 7- ‘s if she, at night has wine that North winds chill. Or she of date-honey has had her fill.

8- ﺴ ﻤ ﻘﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺍﻟﺼﻘﹾﺭ ﺍﻟﻌِﺘﺎﻕﹸ ﺒِ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻤِ ﺦٍ ﺩ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀِ ﻤ ﺼ ﻌ ﺩٍ ﺸﻜﹾﺱ ِ 8- The juice of fruit of palms that rise up high, whose high– held dates hold just below the sky.287

9- ﻓﺎﺒﻴﺽ ﻜﺎﻟﻠﱠﺒﻥِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻠ ﻴ ﺏِ ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﻴﺒﺩﻭ ﻟﺫﻱ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥٍ ﻭﻻ ﺸﹶﻤﺱ ِ 9- Translucent dates; as freshest milk, are clear. Beneath their leaves, nor t’eye, nor t’sun, appear.

10- ﺤﺘﻰ ﺃﺘﻴﺢ ﻷ ﺨ ﺫ ﻩِ ﺫﹸﻭ ﺭ ﺠ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﻜﺎﻟﺫﱢﺌﺏِ ﻻ ﻴﺩﻨﻭ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺇﻨﹾﺱ ِ 10- A sure-foot picker picks what th’palms do bear. Like wary wolf that stays from man well clear.

11- ﻓﹶ ﻐﹶ ﺩ ﺍ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺠ ﺭِ ﺩِ ﺍﻟﻘﹶﻭﺍﻡ ﻤ ﺤ ﻤ ﻠﹶ ﺞٍ ﻋ ﺒ لِ ﺍﻟﺸﱠﻭﻯ ﻭ ﺒ ﺤ ﻨﹾ ﺒ لٍ ﻀﺒﺱ ِ 11- With juice he fills his pouch that is well–lined. He’s strong of limb. Stout ropes his pouch do bind.

12- ﻤِ ﻥ ﺒﻌﺽ ﻤ ﻥ ﻴﻐﹾﺸﹶﻰ ﺍﻟﺤِﺠﺎﺯ ﺒ ﺄ ﻫ ﻠِ ﻪِ ﺃﻭ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻓﹶ ﺯ ﺍ ﺭ ﺓﹶ ﺍﻭ ﺒﻨﻲ ﻋﺒﺱ ِ 12- With him is one, who works the dates t’gather. Who’s from “Hijaz”, “Fazara” “Abs”- or oth’r.

13- ﻓﹶﺘﻭﺍﺜﻘﺎ ﺒﺎﷲ ﺭ ﺒ ﻬِ ﻤ ﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻗِ ﻠﱠ ﺔِ ﺍﻷَﺨﻼﻑ ﻭﺍﻟﺤﺒﺱ ِ 13- In God their lord they swore to place their trust

287 The higher the date palms rise, it was held, the choicest are its dates.

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and work the ropes well, as indeed they must.288

14- ﻨﺎﺩﻯ ﺒ ﺄَ ﻥ ﺃ ﻟ ﻕِ ﺍﻟﺤِﺒﺎلَ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻗﹶ ﺒ لَ ﺍﻟﻅﻼﻡِ ﻭﻗﺒل ﺃﻥ ﻨﹸﻤﺴﻲ 14- He called “togeth’r the ropes lets’ throw and haul. Before our working day ends at night fall”.

15- ﻭ ﺍ ﺨ ﻔﹶ ﺽ ﺒِ ﺼ ﻭ ﺘِ ﻙ ﻻ ﺘ ـَ ﺭ ﻉ ﺃ ﺤ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻭﺍﻜﺘﹸﻡ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺠ ﺴ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻭﺍﻟﻭﺠﺱ ِ 15- “Lower your voice, to startle none around. Restrain all sudden movements, and all sound”.

16- ﺃﻟﹾﻘﻰ ﺍ ﻷ ﺯ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺒ لَ ﻓ ﺎ ﻨﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻌ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﺇﺤﺩﻯ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﺎﻴﺎ ﺤﻴﺙ ﻟﻡ ﻴﺭﺱ ٍ 16- The short-limbed man the rope then upward cast. It, ‘tween the branches flew, and didn’t hold fast.

17- ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﺫﹶ ﺒ ﺫﹶ ﺏ ﺍﻷﻋﻠﻰ ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﺒ ﻘِ ﻴ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻴ ﻀ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺴِ ﻥ ﻭﻻ ﻀِﺭﺱ ِ 17- The turb’lant skies o’er head, with weather brewed. Her gleaming whitest teeth she had not shewed289.

18- ﻤﺎ ﺫ ﺍ ﻙ ﺃﺸﹾﻬﻰ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹶ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺭِﻴﻘِﻬﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹶ ﺍﻟﺸﻔﱠﺎﻥِ ﻭﺍﻟﻘﹶﺭﺱ ِ 18- It was not th’most delightful of her nights. A night of windy rain and cold that bites.

19- ﻓﹶﺩﻋِﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻙ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘ ﻁ ﻌ ﺕِ ﻭ ﺠ ﺎ ﻨِ ﺒ ﻲِ ﻁﹶ ﻤ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻌ ﻴ ﺸﹶ ﺔِ ﻭﺍﺘﹾﺭﻜﻲ ﻀﺭﺴﻲ 19- “Covet not! Safely from hazards retire. Grind not your teeth at me with bitter ire”.290

20- ﻓ ﻠ ﻘﹶ ﺩ ﺃ ﺠ ﻭ ﺯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻕﹶ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﻤِ ﻠﹾ ﻨ ﻲ ﻭﺍﻟﻔﹶﻀﻠﹶﺘﹶﻴﻥِ ﻭﻗﹶﻴﻨﺘﻲ ﻋﻨﹾﺴِﻲ 20- I would, on camel, windy wastes pass through. With food and drink and servant good and true.

288 Harvesting choice dates from such high palms required the labour of two men; one on the ground and one at tree- top level. The date pouch was lowered and raised through deft use of rope. 289 He moves to another scene. The woman described gathers herself to herself in that cold weather. 290 The cold night appears to have placed her in a chagrined mood. She reproaches and scolds him. He replies, reproving her for her shrewish talk.

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21- ﺃُ ﺠ ﺩ ﻤ ﻭ ﺜﱠ ﻘﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻜِ ﻨ ﺎ ﺯ ﻋِ ﺭ ﻤِ ﺱ ﻭ ﺨﱠ ﺎ ﺩ ﺓﹲ ﻓﻲ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﻠ ﺔِ ﺍﻟﻬﻤﺱ ِ 21- Of temper good; well-fleshed; is quick to race, At night it goes with steady, nightly pace.

[79] ﺃﻟﻡ ﺘ ﺯ ﻉ ﻋﻥ ﺃﻡ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭ ﻭٍ “Wont you of ‘Umm cAmr desist and despair?”

1- ﺃﻟﻤﺎ ﺘﹶ ﺯ ﻉ ﻋﻥ ﺃﻡ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭٍ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻴ ﺌَ ﺱِ ﻓﹶﺘﹶﺼﺤﻭﺍ ﻋﻤﺎ ﻗﺩ ﻤﻀﻰ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺫﹸ ﺃﺤﺭﺱ ِ 1- Wont you of “Umm cAmr” desist and despair? And wake up from that ages-old affair?

2- ﺃ ﻟ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒ ﻨ ﺎ ﻫ ﻴ ﻙ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻼ لُ ﻋﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼﺒﺎ ﻭﻤﺎ ﻗﹶﺩ ﻟ ﻘ ﻴ ﺕﹶ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻨﹶﻌﻴﻡ ٍ ﻭﺃﺒﺅُﺱ ِ 2- Had not solemn age forbade youthful ploys. And what you’ve had of youths’ mis’ries, and joys.

3- ﺩ ﻟﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻊ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻁﺎﻁِ ﺒِﻔﻨ ﻴ ﺔٍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﻤ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﺏٍ ﻋ ﺎ لٍ ﺭ ﻓ ﻴ ﻊٍ ﻭﻤﺠﻠِﺱ ِ 3- O’erhead, quail flew; to her my, way I found, With fine ladies she sat on higher ground.

4- ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺤِ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤﻥ ﻴ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥٍ ﻤ ﻌ ﺼ ﺏٍ ﺒِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺒِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﻵ ﺨِ ﻨ ﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﻤﺱ ِ 4- A yemen striped cloak on one should’r, she wore. The other shoulder a sun-lit garment bore.

5- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺀٍ ﺒﻪ ﺭ ﻴ ﺵﹸ ﺍﻟﺤﻤﺎﻡ ﻜ ﺄ ﻨﱠ ﻪ ﻋ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺓﹸ ﻴﻨﹾﺒﻭﺕٍ ﻤﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻐﹶ ﺴ لِ ﻤﺨﹾﻔِﺱ ِ 5- I pass a pool, bestrewn with pidgeons’ plumes Like “Yanbut”s’ essence, it, low-watered, looms.291

6- ﻭ ﺭ ﺩ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﺤﺭﺠﻭﺝٍ ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﻤﻨﺎﺨﹶﻬﺎ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻨﹶ ﻬِ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺍﻷﺫﻯ ﻭﺍﻟﺘﻤﺭﺱ ِ 6- There, my long-necked she-camel came to drink, o’er stressed and exhausted, at water’s brink

291 “Yanbut”: a plant whose bitter fruit and leaves were used to prepare a shampoo-like hair wash. A small pool of “Yanbut” essence was used for bathing. The pool he passes, low watered and strewn with feathers, looks as if pidgeons have been bathing there.

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7- ﻤ ﻭ ﺍ ﻗِ ﻊ ﻜﹸ ﺩ ﺭٍ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻗﹶﻁﹶﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻲ ﺍ ﺭ ﺒ ﻊٍ ﻗﹶﺭﺒﻥ ﺴِ ﻤ ﺎ ﻻﹰ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﻭ ﺭ ﺩٍ ﻤﻐﹶﻠﱢﺱ ِ 7- Four fowl, from “Sayy”, by stagnant waters perched. To quench, at night, at brackish pools their thirst.

[80] ﺇﻨﱢﻲ ﺍ ﻤ ﺭ ﺅٌ ﻤﻥ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ “I’m of Kinda’s good ones”

1- ﺇﻨﱢﻲ ﺍ ﻤ ﺭ ﺅٌ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﻟﹶ ﺴ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻥ ﺃﺸﹾﺭﺍﺭﻫﺎ 1- I’m of the good, whom Kinda I adorn. Not of ones evil to it who were born.

2- ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶﻴﺭِﻫﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺴ ﺒ ﺎﹰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺘﹶﻨﹾﻤِﻲ ﺍﻟﻰ ﺃَﺨﹾﻴﺎﺭِﻫﺎ 2- From its good lineage, mine in goodness grows. And from its ancestral glory, mine glows.

3- ﻤِ ﻥ ﺨﹶﻴﺭِﻫﺎ ﺨ ﺒ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃﺨﺒﺎﺭﻫﺎ 3- The joyous tidings we have ever had. to its annals of joyous good, will add.

4- ﻓﻲ ﺤﺠﺭِﻫﺎ ﻤ ﺘ ﺭ ﺩ ﺩ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻋ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻫ ﺎ ﻭﻤﺭﺍﺭِﻫﺎ 4- To her spacious lap I e’er do return. From its hard times, or good, e’er will I learn. 5- ﺇﻥ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﺞ ﻜِ ﻨﹾ ﺩ ﺓﹶ ﻅﺎﻟﻤﺎﹰ ﻻ ﺘﹶ ﻨ ﺞ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺃﻅﹾﻔﹶﺎﺭﻫﺎ 5- Should you cut Kinda with lampoons, and scrape, you’d not from Kinda’s cutting claws escape.

6- ﺃﻻ ﺘﹸ ﺼِ ﺒ ﻙ ﺒﺤﺩﻫﺎ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﻠِ ﻜﹸ ﻙ ﻓﻲ ﺘِ ﻜﹾ ﺭ ﺍ ﺭِ ﻫ ﺎ 6- Her sharp cuts may miss you, and strike astray. Recurrent thrusts ensure that dead you’ll lay.

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7- ﻗ ﻭ ﻡ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﺤﺭﺏ ﺸﹶ ﺒ ﺕﹾ ﻴﺼﻁﻠﻭﻥ ﺒِﻨﺎﺭِﻫﺎ 7- They are such, that if war at them should storm, their hands at war’s raging fires they would warm.

8- ﻜ ﺎ ﻷ ﺴ ﺩِ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﻕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩِ ﻟﺩﻯ ﺍﻨﺒﺜﺎﺙِ ﻏﹸﺒﺎﺭِﻩ 8- Like lions circled by iron, resist they must. In ire they throw up swirling clouds of dust.292

[81] ﺒﺎﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﻠﻭﻙ “The kings appear”

1- ﺒ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠ ﻭ ﻙ ﻓﹶﺄﻤﺴﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﻤﺭﺘﹶﺎﺒﺎ ﻤِﻥ ﻫﺅﻻ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﺱِ ﻋﺎﺸﹸﻭﺍ ﺒ ﻌ ﺩ ﺃﺤﺯﺍﺒﺎ 1- The kings appear; my heart with doubt is rife. Of those who’ve since in sects had lived in strife.

2- ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﻜِ ﺭ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱ ﻤِﻨﹼﺎ ﺤ ﻴ ﻥ ﻨﹶ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻜﹸ ﻬ ﻡ ﻜﺎﻨﻭﺍ ﻋﺒﻴﺩﺍﹰ ﻭﻜﹸﻨﹼﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺤ ﻥ ﺃﺭﺒﺎﺒﺎ 2- Folk won’t object when we their kings shall be. They were but slaves; their lords ‘nd masters, were we.

3- ﻨﺤﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﻠﻭﻙ ﻭﺍﺒﻨﺎﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠ ﻭ ﻙ ﻟﻨﺎ ﻤ ﻠﹾ ﻙ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻋ ﺎ ﺵﹶ ﻫﺫﺍ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﺱ ﺃﺤﻘﹶﺎﺒﺎ 3- For we are kings, and sons of kings, are we. In our realm these folk lived since ages far.

4- ﺇﻨﹼﻲ ﺴ ﺄ ﻤ ﻠِ ﻜﹸ ﻜﹸ ﻡ ﺒﺎﻟﺭﻭﻡِ ﺇﺫ ﻜﹶ ﺭِ ﻫ ﺕﹾ ﻏﹶ ﺴ ﺎ ﻥ ﻨﹶﺼﺭﻱ ﻭ ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻠ ﻙ ﺃﺴﺒﺎﺒﺎ 4- With Roman aid your King I’ll be, if aid “Ghassan” denies. There are ways kings are made293

5- ﺍﻭ ﺘﺭﺠﻌﻭﻥ ﻜﹶﻤﺎ ﻜﹸﻨﹾﺘﻡ ﻟﹶﻨﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻭ ﻻﹰ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺘﹶﺩﻴﻨﹸﻭﺍ ﻟﹶﻨﹶﺎ ﻁﹶ ﻭ ﻋ ﺎﹶ ﻭﺇﺘﹾﻌﺎﺒﺎ

292 The verse refers to lions- the Kindites- “in rings of iron”. It may mean that the lions are actually chained in iron, or that they are encircled by their iron-clad foes out to slay them. 293 The Ghassanids, the traditional allies of the Byzantines (The Romans) were first approached by Imru’ul Qays to intercede for him with Constantinople with the aim of re-establishing him as King of Kinda. In these verses he re-iterates his claims to kingship. If Ghassan’s aid to achieve this end, he threatens, is not forthcoming, he will approach Constantinople directly. The verses here assert his claims to kingship to those subjects once ruled by the bygone Kings of Kinda.

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5- Our villeins you once were, as such you’ll stay. To us your allegiance in full you’ll pay.

[82] ﺃ ﻨﱠ ﻙ ﺃَ ﻗﹾ ﻠﹶ ﻑﹾ “You are uncircumcised”

when Imru’ul Qays arrived in Constantenople he was warmly and honourably received by the Emperor Justinian, whose hospitality included a visit to the royal baths. In the baths, totally undressed, Imru’ul Qays noticed to his coutempt and horror that the Emperor was uncircumcised, and recited, later, these lines lampooning the emperor for this gross shortcoming.

These ribald, if not offensive, lines contributed to Imru’ul Qays’s downfall. Justinian realized that this fellow cannot be trusted, and the poet’s adversary, al-Tammah, who vilified him in Justinian’s court was- Junstinian realized–quite right in his accusations of this “vagabond princeling” with ambitions to be a future “King of Kinda”. These lurid lines, together with al-Tammah’s charges that Imru’ul Qays had go the Emperor’s daughter with child, finally convinced Justinian that this Arab prince had to go, in more ways than one.

1- ﺇﻨﹼﻲ ﺤ ﻠﹶ ﻔﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻴ ﻤ ﻴ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻜ ﺎ ﺫ ﺒ ﺔٍ ﺃ ﻨﱠ ﻙ ﺃ ﻗﹾ ﻠﹶ ﻑﹸ ﺇﻻ ﻤﺎ ﺠﻼ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻤ ﺭ 1- In fullest truth, I do solemnly swear Uncircumcised you are, I do declare

2- ﺇﺫﺍ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺒ ﻪِ ﻤﺎﻟﹶﺕﹾ ﻋِ ﻤ ﺎ ﻤ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺘﹶﺠﻤﻊ ﺘﹶ ﺤ ﺕﹶ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔﹶ ﻠﹾ ﻜﹶ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺒ ﺭ 2- Should you thrust it, its head-dress tilts aside294 As wool ‘neath spindle; thread it fails to guide295

[83]

294 The head –dress here is the foreskin. “It” is the erect male genital. 295 The uncircumcised genital is like a faulty spindle that fails to spin wool, which piles up beneath it.

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ﻴﺎ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺒ ﻲ “My friends”

1- ﻴﺎ ﺼ ﺎ ﺤِ ﺒ ﻲ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺨﻔﺘﹸﻤﺎ ﻏﹶﺭﻀﻲ ﻓﹶﻌﻠﱢﻼﻨﻲ ﻓﹶ ﺈ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻠﱠﻴلَ ﻗﺩ ﻁﹶ ﺎ ﻻﹶ 1- My friends, if fears you have of me grow strong. Serve me more drink; the night draws dull and long.

2- ﻫ لْ ﺘﹶ ﺄ ﺭ ﻗ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻟِ ﺒ ﺭ ﻕٍ ﺒِ ﺙﱡ ﺃﺭﻗﹸﺒﻪ ﻜﻤﺎ ﺘ ﻜ ﺸﱠ ﻑﹸ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﻠﹾ ﻕﹸ ﺃﺠﻼﻻ 2- Awake are you? For I at lightning stare. Nude clouds alight, as unsaddl’d mares are bare.

3- ﺘﹶﺤﻤﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻔِ ﻼ ﺀ ﻭﺘﹶﻨﹾﻔﻲ ﻋ ﻥ ﻤ ﺭ ﺍ ﺒِ ﻁِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺨﹶ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﺒِﻤﻌﺘﹶﺭﻙٍ ﻴ ﻌ ﺩ ﻥ ﺃَﺭﺴﺎﻻ 3- The steeds protect the wilds, far from home ground. Following each other; to battle bound.

4- ﻭ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻨﹶ ﻬ ﻴ ﺘﹸ ﻙ ﺃﻥ ﺘﹶﻐﹾﺸﻰ ﻤﻌﺎﺘﹶﺒﺘﻲ ﺍﻭ ﺘﹶﺠﻤﻌﻲ ﻟﻲ ﻟِ ﺌ ﺎ ﻡ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺱِ ﺃ ﻤ ﺜ ﺎ ﻻﹶ 4- Be warned! Let your reproach of me abate. Urge not that I the low should emulate.

5- ﺇﺫ ﻻ ﺃﺯﺍل ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺭﺠﺎﺀ ﻤ ﻅ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﺃﺒﻐﻴﻙ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﺴ ﻨ ﺎ ﺀ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﱢ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﺎﻻ 5- I, still, in darkest corners, lurk in stealth. I, there, for you, wish heights of fame and wealth.

6- ﻭﻗﹶﺩ ﺃ ﻗ ﻭ ﺩ ﺒ ﺄ ﺨ ﺭ ﺍ ﺏٍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺤ ﺭ ﺽٍ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺠ ﻤ ﺎ ﻫ ﻴ ﺭ ﺭ ﺤ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻭ ﻑِ ﺼﻬﺎﻻ 6- I, from “Ikhrab” t’ Hurrudh” would find my way There, cheering crowds in wait for me would stay.

[84] ﺃ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﻙ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺁل ﻟﹶﻴﻠﻰ ﺍ ﻟ ﻁﱠ ﻠ لْ To Layla your yearnings ranged

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1- ﺃ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﻗﹶ ﻙ ﻤ ﻥ ﺁل ﻟﹶﻴﻠﻰ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﻠلْ ﻓﹶ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﻙ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺫِ ﻜﹾ ﺭِ ﻫ ﺎ ﻤ ﺨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺒ لْ 1- To Layla’s folk’s fine house, your yearnings ranged, It’s mem’ries your poor heart have so deranged.

2- ﻓﹶﻼ ﻫِ ﻲ ﺘﹶ ﻌ ﻁِ ﻑﹸ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻭﺩﻫﺎ ﻭﻻ ﺃ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹶ ﺘ ﻌ ﻘِ لُ ﻓ ﻴ ﻤ ﻥ ﻋ ﻘﹶ لْ 2- For she is not with her affections free. Nor you the light of sense and reason see.

3- ﻭ ﺼ ﺎ ﺩ ﺘﹾ ﻙ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻭ ﻫ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻨ ﺔﹲ ﺜﹶ ﻘﹶ ﺎ لُ ﻓﹶﻤﺎ ﺨ ﺎ ﻟﹶ ﻁﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻤ ﻥ ﻋ ﺠ لْ 3- A fair demure woman has you ensnared. On her slow way to you, she well has fared.

4- ﺭ ﻗﹸ ﻭ ﺩ ﺍﻟﻀﺤﺎ ﺴ ﺎ ﺠِ ﻴ ﺎﹰ ﻁﹶﺭﻓﹸﻬﺎ ﻴﻤﻴﻠﹸﻬﺎ ﺤ ﻴ ﻥ ﺘﹶﻤﺸﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺴ لْ 4- Till morning late, in languid sleep she lays. Awake, at walk, with languid steps she sways.

5- ﻋ ﻅ ﻴ ﻤ ﺔﹸ ﺤِ ﻠﹾ ﻡٍ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺍﺴﺘﻨﻁﻘﺕ ﺘﹸﻁﻴلُ ﺍﻟﺴﻜﻭﺕ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﺘﹸ ﺴ لْ 5- When questioned, great tact her discourse holds. When questioned not, long silence her enfolds.

6- ﻭ ﺒ ﻠﹾ ﻬ ﺎ ﺀ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭِ ﻋ ﻲ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻴﺭﻯ ﻟﹸﺒﻬﺎ ﻅ ﺎ ﻫ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻤ ﻥ ﻋ ﻘﹶ لْ 6- A witless fool, an idiot her would find. A man of sense would see her glowing mind.

7- ﺃﻻ ﺤ ﻲ ﻨﹸﻌﻤﺎﹰ ﻋﻠﹶﻰ ﻨﺄﻴِﻬﺎ ﺃﻻ ﺤ ﻲ ﻨﹸﻌﻤﺎﹰ ﻭﻋﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺴ لْ 7- If far may she in prosperity bask. How well she prospers ‘nd fares; do always ask.

8- ﻤ ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﻤ ﺔﹶ ﻓﹶ ﻀ ﻠ ﺕﹾ ﺼ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓﹰ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﻓﻲ ﻤ ﻨ ﺼِ ﺏٍ ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻜﹶ ﻤ لْ 8- A picture of prosperity is she. With pride of birth, she th’homelands pride shall be.

9- ﻟﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥ ﻭﺍﻟﺠﻴﺩ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻅﹶﺒﻴﺔٍ ﻭ ﻓ ﺭ ﻉ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻤﺘﹾﻨِﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺴ ﺩِ لُ 9- As if a hind gave her her neck and eye.

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Her plaits flow down, upon her shoulders lie.

10- ﻭ ﺨﹶ ﺩ ﻟﻬﺎ ﻜ ﺤﺴﺎﻡ ٍ ﺼﻘﻴلٍ ﺠﻠ ـَﺘ ـْ ﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻴ ﺎ ﻗِ لُ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺨﹶ ﻀِ لْ 10- Her cheek as brilliant as a gleaming blade. Whose shine was by diligent whetting made.

11- ﻭ ﻜﹶ ﻑﱞ ﻴ ﺯ ﻴ ﻥ ﺃﻋﻼﻤﻬﺎ ﺒ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﻜﹶ ﻬ ﺩ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﻤ ﻘﹾ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﻔﹶ ﺘﹶ لْ 11- As if fingers, t’adorn her palm, are made as gamrents are adorned by silver braid.

12- ﻭ ﻤِ ﻌ ﺼ ﻤِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺤ ﺴ ﻥ ﺠ ﺩ ﻟﹸ ﻪ ﺃُ ﺘِ ﻡ ﻓﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺎ ﻅِ ﺭ ﻩ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﻤ لّْ 12- Her wrist well-turned; it’s roundness is so right that eyes tire not of such a lovely sight.

13- ﺘﹶﻤﻴلُ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﻨﹾ ﺜﹶ ﻨﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻟ ﻠ ﻀ ﺠ ﻴ ﻊِ ﻜ ﻤ ﻴ لِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﺜ ﻴ ﺏِ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺍ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻬ لّْ 13- In bed, she pours herself o’er t’either side As streams of sand from shak’n dunes, down ward slide

14- ﻭ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﺓِ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃَ ﻗﹾ ﺒ ﻠﹶ ﺕﹾ ﻭ ﻤِ ﺜﹾ لُ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﺯﺍل ﺍﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﺃَ ﺒ لْ 14- With oryx steps, she lightly steps to you. Gazelle is she, that moistened is by dew.

15- ﻭ ﻫ ﻴ ﻔ ﺎ ﺀ ﻟﹶﻔ ـّ ﺎ ﺀ ﺨﹸ ﻤ ﺼ ﺎ ﻨ ﺔﹲ ﻤ ﺒ ﺘﹶ ﻠﱠ ﺔﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹸ ﻠﹾ ﻕِ ﺭﻴﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻜﹶ ﻔﹶ لْ 15- Her waist is slim, her belly smooth and tight. Her thighs full, her bottom rounded right.

16- ﺨﹶ ﺩ ﻟﱠ ﺠ ﺔﹲ ﺭ ﺅ ﺩ ﺓﹲ ﺭ ﺨﹾ ﺼ ﺔﹲ ﻜﹶ ﺩ ﺭ ﺓِ ﻟﹸ ﺞ ﺒﺄﻴﺩﻱ ﺍﻟﺨﹶﻭل 16- Her legs well-shaped, in softness she unfurls. As soft, as freshly prized, are oyster pearls. 17- ﺘﹶ ﻁ ﻭ لُ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘِ ﺼ ﺎ ﺭ ﻭ ﺩ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍﻟ ﻁ ـّ ﻭ ﺍ لِ ﻓ ﺨ ﻠﹾ ﻕﹲ ﺴ ﻭ ﻱ ﻨﻤﺎ ﻓ ﺎ ﻋ ﺘﹶ ﺩ لْ 17- She’s taller than the short; is not too tall. Her height and form in th’golden mean do fall.

18- ﻭ ﺜﹶ ﻐﹾ ﺭ ﺃ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺸﺘﻴﺕﹶ ﺍﻟﻨﹶﺒﺎﺕِ ﻟﺫﻴﺫ ﺍ ﻟ ﻤ ﺫ ﺍ ﻗﹶ ﺔِ ﻋ ﺫﹾ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹸ ﺒ لْ 18- Her teeth so white and are arranged so neat.

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A mouth whose kisses ever are so sweet.

19- ﻜﺄﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺩﺍﻡ ﺒﺄَﻨﹾﻴﺎﺒﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺼ ﻭ ﺏ ﺍﻟﻐﹶﻤﺎﻡِ ﺒ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻏﹶ ﻠﹶ لْ 19- Her teeth emit the scent of fragrant wine; Are moist as plants that to moistrure incline.

20- ﻭ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻡ ﺍﻟﺴﻔﹶﺭﺠل ﺍﻟﺯﻨﺠﺒﻴل ﻋ لﱠ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﻭﺒِﺼﺎﻓﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺴ لْ 20- Ginger and quince are flavour of her air. Pure honey adds t’what in her air is fair296

21- ﻭﻤﺎ ﺫﹸ ﻗﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻓﺎﻫﺎ ﻭﻟﻜﻨﱠﻨﻲ ﺃﺭﺍﻩ ﻋﻠﻰ ﻜل ﻨﹶ ﻌ ﺕِ ﻓﹶ ﻀ لْ 21- Her mouth I’ve tasted not, though it I’ve seen saying well what well-spoken mouths can mean.

22- ﻓﺄﻤﺴﻲ ﻭ ﺃ ﺼ ﺒ ﺢ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻭ ﺠ ﺩِ ﻫ ﺎ ﺒﻤﺎ ﺍﻟﻘﻠﺏ ﻤﻥ ﺃ ﺸﹾ ﻌ ﺏٍ ﻗﺩ ﻨﹶ ﺯ لْ 22- With love of her, my nights and morns I spend . Such tearing passions ‘pon my heart descend.

23- ﻭ ﻋ ﺎ ﺼ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﻓﻲ ﺤﺒﻬﺎ ﻤﻥ ﻟﹶﺤـﺎ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻡ ﻴ ﺸﹾ ﻑِ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﻘ ﻴ ﻡِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﺫﹶ لْ 23- For love of her I stood ‘gainst scorn and strife And cured not sick hearts that with ire are rife

24- ﻭ ﺒ ﺩ ﻟﹾ ﺕﹸ ﻤﻨﻬﺎ ﺍﺘﱢﺒﺎﻉ ﺍﻟﻤﻨﻰ ﻟﹶﻌﻤﺭ ﺃﺒﻴﻬﺎ ﻟِ ﺒِ ﺌْ ﺱ ﺍ ﻟ ﺒ ﺩ لْ 24- From her I turned, my wishes to pursue By her sire’s life! So vile of me to do.

[85] ﻫل ﻋﺎ ﺩ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﻙ “Has your heart returned?”

1- ﻫل ﻋ ﺎ ﺩ ﻗﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺒ ﻙ ﻤِﻥ ﻤﺎﻭِﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻁﱠﺭﺏ ﺒﻌﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺩ ﻭ ﻓﹶ ﺩ ﻤ ﻊ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥِ ﻴ ﻨﹾ ﺴ ﻜِ ﺏ 1- Has your heart from “Mawya” returned oppressed,

296 “air” here refers to her breath, well-flavoured with ginger, quince, and honey.

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to pour its tears when all had gone to rest.

2- ﺃﻡ ﻫ ﻴ ﺠ ﺘﹾ ﻙ ﺩ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻲ ﺍﺫ ﻅﹶﻌﻨﻭﺍ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﻜﺄﻥ ﺒﻌﻤﺎﻴﺎ ﺭ ﺴ ﻤِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻜﹸ ﺘﹸ ﺏ 2- Departing folk your passions long sustain; whose homes are now like books awash with rain.

3- ﺒ لْ ﻁ ﺎ ﺌ ﻑﹲ ﻫ ﺎ ﺝ ﻤﻨﱠﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﱠ ﻭ ﻕﹶ ﻓ ﺎ ﻨ ﺒ ﺩ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻟﻪ ﺍﻟﻤﺩﺍﻤﻊ ﻻ ﻋ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻭﻻ ﺼ ﻘِ ﺏ 3- Visions of love released many a tear, that none had shed for ones who’re held so dear.

4- ﺤ ﻭ ﻻ ﻥِ ﻤﺭﺍ ﺠﻤﻴﻌﺎﹰ ﻤِ ﻨﹾ ﻪ ﻟﻡ ﺃﺭﻫﺎ ﻤ ﺠ ﺭ ﻤ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎﹰ ﻴﺤﺩﻭﻫﻤﺎ ﺭ ﺠ ﺏ 4- Two years have passed, and I her not have seen. Two years, that fraught with fear of loss have been.

5- ﻗﹶ ﺩ ﻜﹸ ﻨﹾ ﺕﹸ ﺃﺼﻁﺎﺩ ﻤ ﻥ ﺃَﺭﻤِﻲ ﻓ ﺄ ﻗ ﺼِ ﺩ ﻩ ﻭ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﻴﺼﻁﺎﺩﻨﻲ ﺫﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤِ ﻴ ﻠ ﺔِ ﺍ ﻷ ﺭِ ﺏ 5- For I hunt down whom I to hunt intend. And ‘gainst the shrewd myself can well defend.

6- ﻗﹶﻁﹶﺎﻉ ﻭﺍﺼﻠﺔٍ، ﻭﺼﺎل ﻗﺎﻁﻌﺔٍ ﻭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺏ ﺃﻭ ﻫﺒﺔٍ، ﻟﻠﺨﻴﺭ ﻤ ﺤ ﺘﹶ ﺴِ ﺏ 6- I cut what’s whole; what’s cut I well can fuse. Largesse I give, but what I’m owed ne’er lose.

7- ﻁﹶﻌﺎﻥ ﻤﻘﹾﺘﹶﻠﹶﺔٍ، ﻭ ﻫ ﺎ ﺏ ﻤ ﺜﹾ ﻘﹶ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺸﹶ ﻌ ﺎ لُ ﻤ ﺸﹾ ﻌ ﻠﹶ ﺔٍ ﺸﹶ ﻌ ﻭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺘﹶ ﻠﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻬِ ﺏ 7- In body-strewn war-grounds I stab and thrust. And bear what oth’rs cannot; yet bear they must.

8- ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﺏ ﻁﺎﻤِﺴﺔٍ، ﻁﹶ ﻼﱠ ﺏ ﺁﻨِﺴﺔ ٍ ﻏﹶ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﻤِ ﻥ ﺩﻭﻨﻬِﺎ ﺍ ﻷ ﺴ ﺘ ﺎ ﺭ ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﺠ ﺏ 8- Flatlands I roam; soft-speaking maids I seek. Who from behind their veils and curtains peek.

9- ﺤ ﻲ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺘﻲ ﺃﺒﻠﹶﻰ ﻤ ﻌ ﺎ ﻟِ ﻤ ﻬ ﺎ ﻋ ﻭ ﺍ ﺼ ﻑﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺼ ﻴ ﻑِ ﺒﺎﻟﺨﺭﺠﺎﺀِ ﻭﺍﻟﺤِﻘﹶ ـَ ﺏ 9- Salute our folk, their homes now waste are laid

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by “Kharjaa” storms, and marks that time had made297

10- ﺠ ﺭ ﺍﻟﺯﻤﺎﻥ ﻋﻠﹶﻴﻬﺎ ﺫﹶ ﻴ لَ ﺤ ﻠﱠ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﻭﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺯﻤﺎﻥِ ﻭﻓﻲ ﺘ ﺼ ﺭ ﻴ ﻔِ ﻪِ ﻋ ﺠ ﺏ 10- O’er them, the long-end train of time did range. For time, and turns of time, e’er will be strange.298

11- ﻜ ﺎ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﻤ ﻴ ﻊ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺤﻴﻨﺎﹰ ﻓﹶ ﻔﹶ ﺭ ﻗﹶ ﻬ ﻡ ﺩ ﻫ ﺭ ﻴﺸﹶﺘ ـﱠ ﺕﹸ ﺃ ﻫ لَ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺩ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺸﹶ ﻌِ ﺏ 11- They all had once lived there, but were dispersed. Time makes amiable folk suffer the worst.

12- ﻭﻗﺩ ﺃ ﺯ ﻭ ﺭ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻨﹸﻌﻤﺎﹰ ﻭﺍﺨﺒﺭﻫﺎ ﺃﻨﱢﻲ ﺒﻬﺎ ﻭ ﺍ ﺠ ﺩ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻬ ﻠﹶ ﻙ ﻨﹶ ﺼِ ﺏ 12- On “Nu’am” I may call; and her I’d tell. Weary am I who in her love have fell.

13- ﺘﹶﻨﹾﺄﻯ ﺒﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭ ﺤِﻴﻨﺎﹰ ﺜﻡ ﺘﹸﺼﻘِﺒﻬﺎ ﻗ ﺭ ﺍﹰ ﻓﹶ ﻠﹶ ﻴ ﺴ ﺕﹾ ﻟِﻘﹸﺭﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺩ ﺍ ﺭِ ﺘﹶ ﻘﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺭِ ﺏ 13- At times she dwells afar; when she is near. She comes not near to whom she is so dear.

14- ﻭ ﺁ ﺠِ ﻥٍ ﻤ ﺎ ﺅُ ﻩ ﺭ ﻴ ﺵﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻤ ﺎ ﻡ ﺒﻪ ﻜ ﺄ ﻥ ﺃ ﺸ ﺒ ﺎ ﺡ ﺤ ﻭ ﻟِ ﻴ ﺎ ﺘِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻁﹸ ﺏ 14- A pool with pidgeons feathers is agleam. ‘s if drinking birds of brighter plumage dream.299

15- ﻓﻴﻪ ﻤ ﻥ ﺍ ﻟ ﻭ ﺤ ﺵِ ﺃ ﻏﹾ ﻔﹶ ﺎ لٌ ﻤ ﻌ ﻁﱠ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹲ ﺴِ ﻴ ﺎ ﻥِ ﻤﺭﺘﹶﻌﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺘﻭﺜﻴل ﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺠ ﺏ 15- In there, young beasts to early deaths have dropped. Who once on “Tawthal” and “Junub” had cropped.300

16- ﻭ ﺭ ﺩ ﺘﹸ ﻪ ﻤ ﻭ ﻫِ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻭﺍﻟﻨﱠﺴﺭ ﻤ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻔِ ﻊ ﻜﺄﻨﻪ ﻨﻴﺭﺍ ﻋ ﻴ ﻥ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺸﹸ ﻬ ﺏ

297 “Kharjaa” storms: The verse menions “summer storms at Kharjaa” The summer storms refer to the devastating “Khamaseen” summer winds.”Kharjaa” is an unidentified location. 298 Times train  the long, tail end of Time’s garment  had swept over his people’s abodes, leaving them in a deplorable state of ruin. 299 Pidgeons, at the turn of the year, shed some of their plumage. While drinking at the pool, they shed their plumage which gleams on the surface under sunlight. It is as if the birds dream of a yet more brighter plumage than that that was shed. 300 Young animals, surfeited with lush “Tawthal” and “Junub” have slipped into the pool and drowned.

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16- At night to drink came I. The eagle high. Its’ eyes aglow; a comet shooting by.

17- ﺃ ﺭ ﺴ ﻠ ﺕﹸ ﺩ ﻟﹾ ﻭِ ﻱ ﻓﻲ ﺤ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺕِ ﻤ ﻅﹾ ﻠِ ﻤ ﺔٍ ﺠ ﻭ ﻓ ﺎ ﺀ ﻴ ﻘﹾ ﺼ ﺭ ﻋﻥ ﻤﺭﺠﻭﻫﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺒ ﺏ 17- I lower’d my bucket down a darksome well. But water lay below where th’bucket fell.

18- ﻟ ﻴ ﻼﹰ ﻓﹶﺠﺎﺀﺕ ﺒِ ﻤ ﺎ ﺀٍ ﻤﻥ ﻤ ﻌ ﻭ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻤ ﺭ ﺕﹾ ﻋﻠﻴﻪ ﺤ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱠ ﺎ ﺏِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺘﹶ ﺼِ ﺏ 18- At night, to draw water, the bucket toiled. At well’s head, iron-fanged serpents, lay coiled.

19- ﺃﻋﻤﻰ ﺃَ ﺼ ﻡُ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﺭ ﻗﹾ ﺸﹶ ﺎ ﺀ ﺘﹶ ﺄْ ﻟﹶ ﻔﹸ ﻪ ﻤﺎ ﺇ ﻥ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻏﻴﺭ ﺇ ﺯ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀٍ ﺒ ﻪِ ﻨﹶ ﺸﹶ ﺏ 19- Blind-deaf, the male serpents lay still in stealth . Their females close; to comfort dearth of wealth.301

20- ﺭﺃﻯ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺯ ﺍ ﻴ ﺔﹶ ﺃﻥ ﺘﹸ ﺠ ﺘﹶ ﺭ ﻤ ﻔﹾ ﻌ ﻤ ﺔﹲ ﺩﻟﹾﻭﻱ، ﻓ ﺠ ﺎ ﺀ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﻋﻭﺍﺩﻫﺎ ﻴ ﺜِ ﺏ 20- At my full water-bucket, the serpent stared. To strike at bucket it, at last, had dared.

21- ﻏﹶ ﻀ ﺒ ﺎ ﻥ ﻓﻲ ﻨ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺤ ﻭ ﺒ ﺎ ﺀ ﻋ ﺎ ﺠِ ﻠﹶ ﺔﹰ ﻜﺎﻟﺤﺒل ﺃ ﺴ ﻭ ﺩ ﻴﻌﻠﻭ ﻟ ﻭ ﻨﹶ ﻪ ﺸﹶ ﻬ ﺏ 21- Irate it was, its fangs alive with spite. Twas like a black rope speckled o’er with white.

22- ﺃ ﻫ ﻭ ﻴ ﺕﹸ ﺴﻭﻁﻲ ﻟﹶ ﻪ ﻟﻤﺎ ﺒ ﺭ ﺯ ﺕﹸ ﺒِﻪ ﻓﹶ ﺨﹶ ﺭ ﻓﻭﻕ ﺍﻟﺤﻭﺽ ﻴ ﻀ ﻁﹶ ﺭِ ﺏ 22- To it I stood, and on it cracked my whip. It writhed; and did o’er water, flip.

23- ﻓﻲ ﻨﹶ ﻔﹾ ﻨﹶ ﻑٍ ﻁ ﺎ ﻤِ ﺱِ ﺍ ﻷ ﻋ ﻼ ﻡِ ﻟﹶ ﻴ ﺱ ﺒِ ﻪِ ﺇﻻ ﺫﹸ ﺅ ﺍ ﻟﹶ ﺔﹸ ﻁ ﺎ ﻭٍ ﻜﹶ ﺸﹾ ﺤ ﻪ ﺠ ﻨﹸ ﺏ 23- In featureless desert, with nought to see but leanest wolf; a stranger so is he.

301 The poet was drawing water at night from a badly covered serpent infested well-head. The male serpents, with their females nearby, remind him of those impoverished serpentine men lurking in the shadows whose only possession is their womenfolk.

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24- ﺒِ ﻴ ﺩ ﻤﺴﻬﺒﺔﹲ، ﻤ ﺭ ﺕﹲ ﻤ ﺨﹶ ﻔﱠ ﻔﹶ ﺔﹲ ﻴﻬﻤﺎﺀ ﺤِﺭﺒﺎﺅﻫﺎ ﻟﻠﺸﻤﺱ ﻤﻨﺘﹶﺼِﺏ 24- Vast deserts, flat, unknown; where winds behowl. And sun-stood creatures ever are at prowl302

25- ﻭﻗﹶﺩ ﻤﺤﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠ ﺩ ﺏ ﻋﻨﹾﻬﺎ ﻜ لّ ﺴﺎﻜﻨِﻬﺎ ﻓﻤﺎ ﺒﺄﺠﻭﺍﺯِﻫﺎ ﻋ ﺠ ﻡ ﻭﻻ ﻋ ﺭ ﺏ 25- For drought had wiped out all from that bare ground. Neither Arabs nor aliens there are found.

26- ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺄ ﻨﹶ ﺱ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘﹶ ﻭ ﻡ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻤِ ﻥ ﻤ ﺨ ﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺘِ ﻬ ﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﻬﻭلِ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻭﻻ ﺍﻟﻤﻬﺭﻴﺔﹸ ﺍ ﻟ ﻨﱡ ﺠ ﺏ 26- All folk, those hostile grounds avoid in fear. Hardiest camels of its horrors stay clear.

27- ﻗﹶ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﺘﹸ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒِ ﻌ ﻠ ﻨ ﺩ ﺍ ﺓٍ ﻋ ﺫ ﺍ ﻓ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﻜﺄﻨﻬﺎ ﻓﹶ ﺎ ﺭ ﺩ ﻓﻲ ﻋ ﺎ ﻨﹶ ﺔٍ ﺼ ﺨِ ﺏ 27- Yet I crossed it; on camel swift and tall; Like wild ass braying to its herd to call.

28- ﺠ ﺄ ﺏ ﺃ ﻀ ﺭ ﺒﻪ ﺍ ﻟ ﺜﱠ ﺠ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﺼ ﻴ ﻔﹶ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﺤﺘﻰ ﺩ ﻋ ﺘﹾ ﻪ ﻋ ﻴ ﻭ ﻥ ﻤﺎﺅﻫﺎ ﺸﹸ ﻌ ﺏ 28- Galloping ass, by hottest summer mauled. At last, by waters streaming far, is called.

29- ﻓﺂل ﻴ ﻀ ﺭِ ﺏ ﺭِ ﺃ ﺱ ﺍ ﻷ ﻤ ﺭِ ﻀ ﺤ ﻭ ﺘﹶ ﻪ ﺒﺎﻟﺴﻔﹾﺢِ ﺃَ ﻴ ﻥ ﺇﺫﺍ ﺃﻤﺴﻰ ﺒِﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﻘ ـَ ﺭ ﺏ 29- At morn, the ass watered by mountain side. Where will it go to drink at eventide?

30- ﻋﻴﻨﺎﹰ ﺒِ ﻌ ﻴ ﻥٍ ﺇﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻤﺎ ﻴﺤﻭﻟﹸﻬﺎ ﻋﻨﻬﺎ ﻭﻋﻴﻥ ﻏﹸ ﺭ ﻭ ﺏِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺱِ ﻴ ﺭ ﺘﹶ ﻘِ ﺏ 30- The wild ass sets on water, one full eye. The other eye awaits descent of sun from sky303

31- ﻭﻫﻭ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻟﹶ ﺒِ ﺱ ﺍﻟﻅﻠﻤﺎﺀ ﻗﹶﺭﺒﻬﺎ ﻴﻌﻠﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻘ ﺭ ﺍ ﺩ ﻴ ﺩ ﺃﺩﻨﻰ ﺴﻴﺭِﻩ ﺍ ﻟ ﺨﹶ ﺒ ﺏ 31- To him, the night-time rider gathers night. And pads his way on paces firm yet light.304

302 The sun-stood creatures refers to the desert chameleon, an iguana-like reptile; its head, neck and shoulders always upright under the fierce sun. 303 The thirsty animal has its sight on its drink, and yet eagerly awaits sunset. Daylight means constant danger from lurking hunters. Nightfall provides safety.

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32- ﻴ ﻬ ﻭ ﻴ ﻥ ﻤ ﻨ ﻪ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻤﺎ ﻟﹶ ﺞ ﻓﻲ ﺴ ﻨﹶ ﻥٍ ﻭ ﻟ ﻴ ﺱ ﻤﺎﻨﻌﻬﺎ ﻤِﻥ ﺸ ﺄ ﻭِ ﻩِ ﺍ ﻟ ﻬ ﺭ ﺏ 32- Cantering camels; galloping wild-ass. Each bent on not letting th’other o’erpass.

33- ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﻁﹶﻭﻴﻥ ﻋ ﻴ ﻭ ﻥ ﺍﻟﻤﺎﺀِ ﺒﺎﺭﺯﺓﹰ ﻜﺄﻨﹼﻤﺎ ﻓﻲ ﻤﺠﺎﺭﻱ ﻤﺎﺌِﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﺫﹶ ﻫ ﺏ 33- They raced past streams, which soon they left behind. Pure golden waters; th’ purest you could find.

34- ﻭ ﺃ ﺩ ﻋ ﺞ ﺍﻟﻌﻴﻥ ﻓﻴﻬﺎ ﻻ ﻁِ ﺊٌ ﻁﹶ ﻤِ ﺭ ﻤﺎ ﺇﻥ ﻟﹶﻪ ﻏﹶ ﻴ ﺭ ﻤﺎ ﻴ ﺼ ﻁ ﺎ ﺩ ﻤ ﻜﹾ ﺘﹶ ﺴ ﺏ 34- A black-eyed hunter, well hid, close to ground, Who lives but on what in the hunt is found.

35- ﻓﻲ ﻜﹶ ﻔﱢ ﻪِ ﻨﹶ ﺒ ﻌ ﺔﹲ ﺼ ﻔﹾ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺼ ﺎ ﻓ ﻴ ﺔﹲ ﻭ ﻤ ﺭ ﻫ ﻔ ﺎ ﺕﹲ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺃﺴﻨﹶﺎﺨِﻬﺎ ﺍ ﻟ ﻌ ﻘﹶ ﺏ 35- He holds a bow of pure, yellowish wood. And shafts whose heads fell of prey what they could.

36- ﺃﻫﻭﻯ ﻟﹶﻬﺎ ﺤ ﻴ ﻥ ﻭﻻﹼﻩ ﻤﻴﺎﺴِﺭﻩ ﺴﻬﻤﺎﹰ ﻓﺄﺨﻁﺄﻩ ﻓﻲ ﻤِﺸﹾﻴﻪ ﺍﻟﺫ ﱠﻨ ـَ ﺏ 36- Asses leftside; he let and arrow fly. It missed; o’er an ass’s tail flew too high.

37- ﺃﺫﺍﻙ ﺃﻡ ﺃ ﻗ ﺭ ﻉ ﺼ ﻌ لٌ ﻏﺩﺍ ﻓﹶ ﺯِ ﻋ ﺎﹰ ﻴﻌﻠﻭ ﺍ ﻟ ﻴ ﻔ ﺎ ﻉ ﻫِ ﺠ ﻑﹲ ﺠ ﻭ ﻓِ ﻪِ ﺨﹶﺭِﺏ 37- Is ‘t that? Or that with bald head, small and queer That strides up heights with nought inside but fear.305

38- ﺩﺍﻤﻲ ﺍﻟﻭﻅﻴﻔﺘﻴﻥ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﺒﻴﺩﺍﺀ ﺘﹸ ﺒ ﺼ ﺭ ﻩ ﻜﺄﻨﻪ ﺭ ﺠ لٌ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻔﹶ ﺎ ﻥ ﻤ ﺴ ﺘﹶ ﻠِ ﺏ 38- Running the desert with bleeding low’r legs. Like one anguished; in pain, for comfort, begs.

39- ﻫ ﻴ ﻕﹲ ﻏﹶﺩﺍ ﻤﻥ ﺠﻨﻭﺏ ﺍ ﻟ ﺠِ ﺯ ﻉِ ﻤ ﻌ ﺘ ﻤ ﺩ ﺍﹰ ﻟ ﻤﺨـﺘ ﻼ ﺕٍ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﺜﺒﺎﺠِﻬﺎ ﺯ ﻏﹶ ﺏ 39- From valley’s bend, an ostrich cock made tracks. To find young hens with down still on their backs.

304 The night-time rider, like the wild-ass, prefers night time. The camel rider because it is cooler, more comfortable to travel by night. The ass is safer from hunters at night. 305 Is it that wild ass that vies with my camel in speed; or that bald and queer headed ostrich that flees in fear to high ground?

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40- ﻓﹶ ﺫ ﺍ ﻙ ﺃﻡ ﻟﹶ ﻬ ﻕﹲ ﻫ ﺎ ﺝ ﺍ ﻟ ﻀ ﺭ ﺍ ﺀ ﺒﻪ ﺫﻭ ﻭ ﺒ ﺭ ﺓٍ ﺁ ﻟِ ﻑﹲ ﻟﻠﻘﹶﻭﺩ ﻤ ﺠ ﺘﹶ ﺫِ ﺏ 40- Or that white oryx bull, by hounds that’s chased. A hunter’s hounds! Aroused to hunt in haste.

41- ﻴﺒﻐﻰ ﺒِ ﻬِ ﻥ ﺃﺨﻭ ﺒ ﻴ ﺩ ﺍ ﺀ ﻋﻭﺩﻫﺎ ﻤ ﺸﹶ ﻤ ﺭ ﻋ ﻥ ﻭ ﻅ ﻴ ﻑِ ﺍ ﻟ ﺴ ﺎ ﻕِ ﻤ ﻨﹾ ﺘﹶ ﻘِ ﺏ 41- The desert hound-master unleashed his packs. Bare-legged, well-hid, he lay behind the tracks.306

42- ﺤﺘﹼﻰ ﺇﺫﺍ ﻗﹶ ﺎ لَ ﻨﺎﻟﹶﺘﻪ ﺴﻭﺍﺒِﻘﹸﻬﺎ ﻏﹸ ﺼ ﻑﹲ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﻫِ لُ ﻓﻲ ﺃﺸﻌﺎﺭِﻫﺎ ﺯ ﺒ ﺏ 42- He feels the first ‘mong hounds, while lying still. Short-haired, ears drooping; pouncing on their kill.

43- ﺃﻨ ﺤﻰ ﻋ ﻠ ﻴ ﻬ ﻥ ﻁﹶ ﻌ ﻨ ﺎﹰ ﻓﻲ ﺠ ﻭ ﺍ ﺸِ ﻨِ ﻬ ﺎ ﺒﻤﺴﺘﻘﻴﻤﻴﻥ ِ ﻓﻲ ﺭﺃﺴﻴﻬﻤﺎ ﺫﹶ ﺭ ﺏ 43- The bull then stabbed th’ attacking hounds, and pressed his straight and sharp horns through th’ attackers’ breasts.

44- ﻓ ﺄ ﻨﹾ ﺼ ﻌ ﻥ ﻋﻨﻪ ﻭ ﻋ ﻥ ﻗﹶﻌﺼﺎﺀ ﺃﺜﹾﺒﺘﹶﻬﺎ ﻤ ﻨ ﻪ ﺒ ﻨ ﺎ ﻓِ ﺫ ﺓٍ ﻨﹶ ﺠ ﻼ ﺀ ﺘﹶﻨﺜﹶﻌِﺏ 44- The hounds withdrew from him, and from the gore. As he, wide bleeding gashes through them tore.

306 The tracks are those left by the hounds when chasing the oryx.

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