وَوُقُوفًا بِهَا صَحْبِي عَلَيَّ مَطِيَّهُمْ
يَقُولُونَ لَا تَهْلِكْ أَسًى وَتَجَمَّلِ
My companions halted there on their mounts beside me, saying, “Do not destroy yourself with grief; bear yourself with patience and composure.”
For the first time, other voices answer the poet's sorrow. His companions do not deny the pain, but warn against letting it overwhelm him.
Maṭiyy refers to riding animals used in travel. The companions pause physically while the poet remains emotionally caught in memory, creating two different kinds of stopping in one place.