O gently soaring bird, bring
word from me; don’t leave me wailing.

You take, with God your guide, a note
from me, to a land where I once

knew the way; to wilds Layla
may be found astray. On her, my heart

depends; & if this bird, one day, returned
to me from far away, I’d take my last bread.

Qays ibn al-Mulawwah


أيها الطير المحلق غادياً
تحمل سلامي لا تذرني مناديا

تَحَمَّلُ هّدَاكَ اللّه مِنِّي رِسَالة ً
إلى بلد إن كنت بالأرض هاديا

إلى قفرة من نحو ليلى مضلة
بها الْقَلْبُ مِنِّي مُوثَقٌ وفؤَادِيَا

ألاَ لَيْتَ يَوْمَاً حَلَّ بِي مِنْ فِرَاقِكُمْ
تَزَوَّدْتُ ذاك اليومَ آخِرَ زادِيَا

قيس بن الموح

Should you alight, O raven of severance,
in the land of Layla, ask to talk:

give my hello to her & my crushes,
but keep her far from others’ babble.

Qays ibn al-Mulawwah


ألا يا غراب البين إن كنت هابطاً
بِلاَداً لِلَيْلَى فَالْتَمِسْ أنْ تَكَلَّمَا

وَبَلِّغْ تَحِيَّاتِي إلَيْهَا وَصَبْوَتِي
وكن بعدها عن سائر الناس أعجما

قيس بن الموح

My leave of Leila’s naught between us
but a night to me, standing by.

Qays ibn al-Mulawwah


أَأَتْرُكُ لَيْلَى لَيْسَ بَيْني وَبَيْنَها
سِوَى لَيْلَة ٍ، إنِّي إذاً لَصَبُورُ

قيس بن الملوح

The world’s part with a fin’s
end, leaving all’s left
back to where it’s. A cleft

Musa moved sea & self
by saying Is, his stick
his only word.

He made the sea
search endlessly for a noun
among itself, so it split, &

left both sea & Musa
deeper for the it making
them bereft.

In the uh there was a ukh,
from the cough of the word,
came a calf: meat

we ate like it wasn’t golden,
& saw ourselves more godly by
till we ingested it. Then out

spilled the soft gold from our
gut, leaving our throats
gilded, & our god molded anew.

With a flake of god
in our gullets, we sung, to gold
resembling what was hung

inside us. O you, who turn up all
you eat, will find your food
insepr’ble from your song.