One By Sixth Or Sixth By One Poem by Abu at-Tayyib al-Mutanabbi

Is it one by sixth or sixth by one?
In which our tonight is dependent on.
Little Bear and Great Bear seemingly have gloomily showing.
On the bowl of the sky, appear as unveiled maidens at mourning.
The death preoccupies my thoughts deliberately.
Meanwhile the long-necked horses are scrambling heartedly.
I am the man of a good experience on javelins throwing.
Into shedding the blood of both urban and Bedouin, I am practicing.
What is beyond this delaying and tarrying?
And, how much the long acting of boredom is accepting?
To what extent engaging thee self toward the sublimity is acceptable!
Is it sealing the poetry on stagnant market is applicable?
The run out youth does not regain.
Even the passing day does not come again.
So long as my eye notices the white hairs growing excessively.
Its sight lessens, on contrast its black spot shrinks gradually.
However, I grew old the perfect soul would be closeness.
Likewise, the soul detraction gradually turns to perfectness.
Do I satisfy to live without reward suffering poverty?
Moreover, the prince has strength and ability.
God forgives! Still we were preceded on our march got fatigued.
Our food runs out and our animals were exhausted.
Hardly strong camel could reach bin Abraham dwelling.
Hardly the ticks that parasitising on its back can be nourishing
Yesterday we asked ourselves! Is it far away to be cut?
Now it becomes proximity as tall as sword belt!
The distance becomes as a next door, however we do not believe.
The march we had achieved was long as if we did not leave.
When I reached him soon he offers me a good hospitality.
He respects me more and offers me the service sublimely.
He welcomes me with shiny face before meeting.
I am grateful to him that he offers me his money before sitting.
We blame you Ali without any sin you commit seriously.
Only you are generous and exceed other people really.
Your gifts if contrasted to others are unlimited and variant.
The generous man would keep silent to tell, 'He was equivalent'.
It seems that you fear as someone falls away from his doctrine
Fear about your generosity descendent and your status decline.
The heads you cut on battle seem as sleepless eyes displaying.
Your swords awake them to be cut without delaying.
You made the javelins to be as grief surround your enemy
The stabs fall only on their chest cutting it without mercy.
You brought forward the tousled forelock horses I witness.
The tufting hairs on their necks are twisted due to tiredness.
The death covers them inside their dwellings suddenly.
After their oppression in Latakia that persists yearly.
The west side of Latakia encloses with water widely.
Countlessly horses run on the left side as a sea roundly.
The banners have flapped inside the battlefields to you welcoming.
The battle is a sea alike since the weapons inside it glimmering.
They meet you as stubborn camels combating fiercely.
But you swept them by the edge of sword forcibly.
You removed the erring garment that they had attired.
You have wearing them the white dress to be purified.
They did not give up their princedom for you easily.
Or had expressed their obedience to you wisely.
They did not express the action of modesty loftily.
Do not be deceived obedient come to you willingly.
But the horror makes them trembling on their depth severely.
As if the wind sweeping the grasshoppers to fly disorderly.
They were dying before the death visits them desperately.
Soon you declare your pardon they are reviving again recently.
You fight them unless they regret or turn wisely.
If they do not, you would shatter them haphazardly.
Even if your wrath is too strong to bind,
But your kindhearted nature encircles all side.
Be aware not to be deceived by sweet tongues one day.
Conceals hidden rancor, no longer and they will betray.
Let yourself, as the death has not mercy to each one weeping.
Even if the death quenches its thirst, yet it needs more quenching.
The uncured wound may be re-ulcerated after a time unexpectedly.
The hidden enmity is alike ignites its wrath opportunistically.
However, the water is soft but flows out of solid ground usually.
Otherwise, the fire is flaring out of small firebrand mostly.
How does the fearful coward enemy shut his eye to sleeping?
It seems as if he was lying over tragacanth- thorns bedding.
He would envisage that your javelin stabs his flank at sleep suddenly.
Fears it will be truth at sleeplessness without alarm momently.
You soul, had suggested for me to praise a certain tribe nicely.
But when I was their guest no longer I left them angrily.
They think that I praised them but their guess is illusionary.
My praise is only suggested specially for thy glory honorably.
I shall leave you tomorrow after for another land.
But I feel that my heart remains with thy generous hand.
I am the sincere to thy hospitable personality everywhere.
I am your guest in which country I dwell here or there.