«Who knows the heart of the Christian? How does he reason?
What are his measures and balances? Which is his season
For laughter, forbearance or bloodshed, and what devils move him
When he arises to smite us? I do not love him.

"В сердце у христианина, в разуме скудном
Вихри господствуют злые над безрассудным
Хаосом диких желаний, – разве что демон
Знает, зачем он смеется, плачет зачем он?

He invites the derision of strangers – he enters all places.
Booted, bareheaded he enters. With shouts and embraces
He asks of us news of the household whom we reckon nameless.
Certainly Allah created him forty–fold shameless!

Он с головой непокрытой входит под крышу,
Лезет ко всем обниматься, – что тут я слышу! –
Не разуваясь, о доме спросит, о женах, –
Сроду не видел у белых глаз пристыженных.

So it is not in the Desert. One came to me weeping –
The Avenger of Blood on his track – I took him in keeping.
Demanding not whom he had slain, I refreshed him, I fed him
As he were even a brother. But Eblis had bred him.

Все по–другому в пустыне: в дом мой однажды
Путник ночной постучался, слабый от жажды.
Мести он ждал за убийство, – принял по–братски
Я беглеца, тут явил он нрав свой дурацкий.

He was the son of an ape, ill at ease in his clothing.
He talked with his head, hands and feet. I endured him with loathing.
Whatever his spirit conceived his countenance showed it
As a frog shows in a mud–puddle. Yet I abode it!

Был он исчадьем гиены и обезьяны,
Квакал, как жаба в болоте, плакал, как пьяный,
И на лице простодушном, все до последней,
Мог прочитать я – не мысли – жалкие бредни!

I fingered my beard and was dumb, in silence confronting him.
His soul was too shallow for silence, e'en with Death hunting him.
I said: "'Tis his weariness speaks," but, when he had rested,
He chirped in my face like some sparrow, and, presently, jested!

Бороду перебирая, молча я слушал.
Видно, Аллах его разум страхом нарушил,
Видно, душе его мелкой трудно без криков:
Вскоре он ожил, запрыгав и зачирикав.

Wherefore slew I that stranger? He brought me dishonour.
I saddled my mare, Bijli, I set him upon her.
I gave him rice and goat's flesh. He bared me to laughter.
When he was gone from my tent, swift I followed after,
Taking my sword in my hand. The hot wine had filled him.
Under the stars he mocked me – therefore I killed him!

Все я стерпел, но не шутки сына Иблиса!
Вывел Бижли из конюшни, мяса дал, риса.
Гостя вином напоил я перед дорогой, –
Чувств мусульманских, пришелец, лучше не трогай!
Чуть он отъехал, я с саблей бросился следом.
И никому, кроме неба, стыд мой не ведом!»

 Хадрамаут – историческая область в Йемене
 Иблис – дьявол в исламе