وليل كأني فيه انسان ناظر

And a night in which I am like a seeing eye, turning its twin eyelids upward across the horizon.

Whenever the numbness of sleep would tilt me, the straight spear swayed in my hand, keeping me awake.

And when the deep swells of longing surged between my ribs, I forced my way into a surging deep of pitch-black night.

I enter the darkness of night as a persistent grief, and greet the morning as a speck in the eye of the waking dawn.

My sword is my drinking companion, the stars are my meadow, the night-journey is my cupbearer, and the march is my camel-rider.

And when the noble elder saw my prolonged stay at his door and my casting aside of my homelands,

He called me, drew me close, elevated my station, welcomed me warmly, lifted me up, and chose me as his own.

A mighty leader who makes fine swords weep in anger, while he makes the fresh buds of desire smile in contentment.

And were an ocean able to climb upward toward him, the sea itself would approach his bounty full of hope.

And a person's nobility lies only in his own soul, whether his forebears were masters or clients.