By جميل بثينة

Buthaynah exclaimed when she glimpsed,
Those hanging strands dyed red

“How you’ve grown O Jamil, your youth has fled!”
And “Will you not desist O Buthaynah?” I pled

Have you forgotten already our time near Liwa?
Or those bygone days spent around Dhi Ajfar?

Time after time did you not gaze after me,
Those nights we spent beyond Dhi Jahwar?

Nights when you were a neighbor next door,
Do you not remember? But yes of course you do!

And wherever I stride with youth’s flourishing,
Then my robe’s sash I will be trailing

And my curls are black as a raven’s feather,
Groomed and fragrant like musk and ambergris

Yet all this that you know has withered away,
However much he who has dwindled may deny

Yet still you are as if a pearl unmatched,
Within the waters of youth preserved

And while our pastures were one,
How did I grow old but you did not?

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