Verily everything except God is vanity And every blessing will inevitably perish
Come, rouse yourself with your cup and give us morning drink And do not save the wines of Andarin
The night must surely clear away And the shackle must surely break
Then I said to it when it stretched out its spine And brought forward its hindquarters and rose on its breast
O my two eyes, be generous and do not be dry Will you not weep for Sakhr the generous?
Neither the wailing of a mourner nor the melody of a singer Is of any use in my creed and belief
If the people one day will to live Fate must respond
Asma announced to us her departure — Many a dweller wearies of his dwelling at last.
Wealth and family are but deposits entrusted to us And one day all deposits must be returned
Indeed, the Messenger is a light by which one is illumined A drawn Indian sword from the swords of God
Life is all toil, so I wonder only At one who desires more of it
I said to the night when it stretched its lazy back And followed with its hindquarters and weighed down with its chest: O long night, will…
My heart has become capable of every form: A pasture for gazelles, a monastery for monks, A temple for idols, the Kaaba of the pilgrim,…
I love You with two loves: a selfish love And a love that is worthy of You As for the selfish love, it is that I think of You alone As for…
Halt, you two companions, and let us weep for the memory of a beloved And an abode at the edge of the winding sands between al-Dakhul and…
I remembered you while the spears were drinking from me And Indian swords were dripping with my blood
The steeds, the night, and the desert know me And the sword, the spear, the parchment and the pen
When you see the fangs of the lion exposed Do not suppose that the lion is smiling
According to the people of resolve come the resolutions And noble deeds come according to the noble
Small matters appear great in the eyes of the small And great matters appear small in the eyes of the great
The intelligent suffers in comfort through his intellect While the ignorant finds pleasure in misery
If you honor the noble, you possess him But if you honor the base, he rebels
If all women were like the one we lost Women would be preferred over men
The feminine gender is no shame for the sun Nor is the masculine gender an honor for the crescent
Stop, let us weep for the memory of a beloved and a dwelling At the edge of the winding dune between al-Dakhul and Hawmal
I am the one whose literature the blind have seen And my words have made the deaf hear
Whoever has a bitter diseased mouth Finds even pure water to be bitter
When souls are great Bodies tire in pursuing their desires
Lofty honor is not safe from harm Until blood is shed around it
Life is all toil, so I wonder Only at those who desire more of it
Tread lightly, for I think the surface Of the earth is but these bodies
Neither the wailing of a mourner profits Nor the singing of a joyful one, in my creed
And a night like the waves of the sea let down its curtains Upon me with all kinds of sorrows to test me
This is what my father committed against me And I have not committed against anyone
Many a morning I have ridden out while birds were still in their nests On a swift horse, the shackle of wild beasts, lean and powerful
Cease your blame, for blame is incitement And cure me with what was the disease
Come, pour me wine and tell me it is wine And do not pour me secretly when openness is possible
Attacking, retreating, advancing, withdrawing all at once Like a boulder the torrent hurled from above
More beautiful than you, my eye has never seen More lovely than you, no woman has given birth
Su'ad has departed, and my heart today is stricken Enslaved in her wake, unredeemed and shackled
The Messenger is a light by which we are illumined An Indian blade, one of God's swords drawn
And Sakhr, the guides follow him As if he were a mountain with fire on its peak
The rising sun reminds me of Sakhr And I remember him at every sunset
Were it not for the many weeping around me For their brothers, I would have killed myself
Is this from Umm Awfa, a trace that does not speak At Hawmanat al-Durraj and al-Mutathallam
I have grown weary of life's burdens, and whoever lives Eighty years, by your father, will grow weary
I saw Death striking blindly; whom it hits, it kills And whom it misses lives long and grows decrepit
And whoever does not act diplomatically in many matters Will be bitten by fangs and trampled by hooves
Whoever puts kindness before his honor protects it And whoever does not guard against insult will be insulted
The dwellings are effaced, their campsite and resting-place At Mina, wild now is its Ghawl and its Rijam
Wealth and family are but deposits And one day deposits must be returned
For Khawla there are traces at Burqat Thahmad They gleam like the remnants of tattoo on the back of the hand
Days will reveal to you what you were ignorant of And news will come to you from one you did not provision
When one of our children reaches weaning Tyrants bow down before him prostrating
Bid farewell to Huraira, for the caravan is departing And can you endure a farewell, O man
Distance has become a substitute for our closeness And estrangement has replaced the sweetness of our meetings
You departed and we departed, yet our hearts were not moistened With longing for you, nor did our eyes dry
I love You with two loves: a selfish love And a love because You are worthy of that
My heart has become capable of every form A pasture for gazelles and a monastery for monks
I follow the religion of love wherever its camels turn For love is my religion and my faith
It is enough of a disease that you see death as healing And enough for deaths to become wishes
If you venture for a sought honor Do not be content with less than the stars
And a night like the waves of the sea let down its curtains Upon me with various sorrows to test me
I said to it when it stretched its back And brought up its hindquarters and rose on its breast
O long night, will you not clear away With dawn, though the dawn is no better than you
Charging, fleeing, advancing, retreating together Like a boulder that the torrent hurled from above
As if the Pleiades were hung in their station By ropes of flax to solid rock
She lights the darkness at nightfall as though she were The lantern of a hermit monk at vespers
May the rain bless you when rain pours O time of union in Andalus
Were it not for hardship, all would be lords Generosity impoverishes and courage kills
O Fatima, gently now with this coquetry And if you have resolved to cut me off, do so gracefully
And a secluded maiden whose tent none may approach I took my pleasure with her at leisure, unhurried
I see you resisting tears, your nature is patience Has passion no command or prohibition over you
Yes, I long and I have burning passion But one like me does not have his secret revealed
I passed by guards to reach her, and a tribe Eager to slay me if they could conceal my death
Many a pregnant and nursing woman like you I have visited And distracted her from her amulet-adorned infant
My God, I am not worthy of Paradise Nor can I bear the fire of Hell
If the people one day desire life Fate must surely respond
On this earth there is what deserves life On this earth is the mistress of the earth
Do not give me the water of life with humiliation Rather give me with honor the cup of colocynth
As though upon his flanks when he strains Lies the grinding-stone of a bride or the polisher of colocynth
Whoever fears the causes of death, they will reach him Even if he sought the paths of heaven with a ladder
Have the poets left anything to be patched? Or did you recognize the dwelling after imagining it?
Rise for the teacher and pay him reverence The teacher almost was a messenger
I remembered you while spears were drinking from me And Indian swords dripping with my blood
I am a man of the noblest lineage of Abs on my father's side And I protect the other half with my sword
I am a man of the best of Abs by lineage on one side And I protect the other half with my sword
If you honor the noble, you possess him But if you honor the base, he rebels
As if the Pleiades were suspended at their station By ropes of linen to hard rock
Do not give me the water of life with humiliation Rather give me the cup of colocynth with honor
Is that a trace of Umm Awfa's dwelling that does not speak At Hawmanat al-Darraj, then Mutathallam?
Sakhr was our guardian and our chief And Sakhr when we wintered would slaughter
It is enough of a disease to see death as healing And enough for deaths to become wishes
O dwelling of Abla at al-Jiwa, speak! And greet the morning, dwelling of Abla, and be well
I will live despite disease and enemies Like an eagle above the lofty peak
I have grown weary of the burdens of life, and whoever lives Eighty years, by your father, will grow weary
And a night like the waves of the sea let down its curtains Upon me with all kinds of sorrows to test me
O long night, will you not disperse With dawn, though dawn is no better than you
As if the Pleiades were hung in their place By flax ropes to solid rock
Attacker, retreater, advancing, withdrawing, all at once Like a boulder the flood has hurled from on high