Ode XX: Alas! Ummu 'Amr set firm her

Alas! Ummu 'Amr set firm her face, and has flitted and gone: she bade no farewell to her neighbours what time she went away.

She gave us no warning of what she purposed, but suddenly the necks of her camels towered above us as forth they sped.

She dwelt in my eyes at even, at night, and when morning dawned; and now has she ended all things, and flitted and passed and gone.

Alas my heart for Umaimah and all my longing for her! yea, she was my life's delight, and now all its joy is fled.

O thou sweet comrade ! not one thou to start men's evil tongues : not thou, when thy name is mentioned, to draw a word of reproach.

She dwells in a tent pitched high above all the slandering herd, when many a tent stands where there gathers around it scorn.

She won me whenas, shamefaced, no maid to let fall her veil, no wanton to glance behind, she walked forth with steady tread :

Her eyes seek the ground, as though she looked for a thing lost there ; straight forward she goes : if thou speak to her, few are her words and low.

At night after little sleep she rises to carry forth her supper to wives who have need, when such gifts are few enow.

Not one is Umaimah for gossip to bring to her husband shame : when mention is made of women, pure and unstained is she.

The day done, at eve glad comes he home to his eye's Delight : he needs not to ask of her — 'Say, where didst thou pass the day?'

And slender is she where meet, and full where it so beseems, and tall, straight, a fairy shape, if such upon earth there be.

And nightlong as we sat there, methought that the tent was roofed above us with basil sprays, all fragrant with evening's dew—

Sweet basil from Halyah dale, its branches abloom and fresh, that fills all around with balm, no starveling of droughty sands.

Yea, many the warrior band, with red bows, have I led on — who goes forth to war may prosper, or mayhap rejoice his foes.

We passed from the valley that winds from Mish'al to al-Jaba —yea, far did I lead my fellows, distant our end and aim !

Time after time do I travel on earth that fails me not, to smite my foes, or it may be to meet on the way my doom.

On foot do I wend, in spite of distance and weariness, and darkness and dawn bring me at last to the end I seek.

And I have watched our House-mother distribute to each his food ; when she fed them, she gave not too much, but doled out the morsels just ;

She fears for us famine if she gives us too freely to eat: yea, hungry are we, and she right sternly keeps us in hand.

A comrade of vagabonds she — no veil disguises her face : no rest by night is to hope for, if she gives not the word.

A quiver she carries, thirty shafts in it broad of head : when first she gets sight of the foe, she bristles in grisly mood :

She springs towards the enemy swiftly, her leg to the middle bare : she bounds like a wild ass guarding his mates from attack on all sides.

When they blench, she betakes herself to her glittering keen-edged blade : she shoots first the shafts she carries, and then she draws the steel.

The swords, see, flicker like tails of calves as they rise from the pool : they have quenched with blood their thirst, and drunken deep again.

We slew for a pilgrim slain another in pilgrim garb by the stones of Mina, in the midst of the shouting pilgrim crowd ;

We paid what we owed to Salaman son of Mufrij there for all the wrong that their hands had wrought in time gone by.

We cured, by 'Abdallah slain, somewhat of our burning thirst, and 'Auf there, beneath in the fight, what time rose the battle-din.

A tribe was wished joy at my birth, but I brought them no cause for joy, and I live now amid a tribe among which I was not born.

Whenso comes my time to die, I care not what way it comes : no woman shall weep for me of mother's or father's kin.

If sickness assail me, let no friend come to tend my pain : my cure shall be to race up the heights of Dhu-l-Buraiq.

My taste is sweet, if men seek the sweet they may find in me, but bitter, if things unmeet are offered to my disdain.

I scorn to accept wrong done : but swift my response to him who offers to do me kindness or bring me a little joy.