فما أم سقب أودعته قرارة — Abdulmalik Al harthy

فَما أُمُّ سَقبٍ أَودَعَتهُ قَرارَةً

مِنَ الأَرضِ وَاِنساحَت لِتَرعى وَتَهجِعا

No mother of a camel calf, who left him in a hollow

of the earth and wandered off to graze and sleep—

لَحيسٌ كَمِثلِ الأَيهُقانِ اِبنُ لَيلَةٍ

أَمدُّ قُواهُ أَن يَنوءَ فَيَركَعا

a calf licked clean, like wild rocket, one night old,

whose utmost strength was to rise, then sink to his knees,

وَيَهتَزُّ في المَشيِ القَريبِ كَأَنَّهُ

قَضيبٌ مِنَ البانِ اِرتَوى فَتَرَعرَعا

swaying in his short steps as though he were

a moringa branch, watered and grown tall—

فَظَلَّت بِمُستَنِّ الصبا مِن أَمامِهِ

تَبَغَّمُ في المَرعى إِلَيهِ لِيَسمَعا

stayed before him in the east wind's course,

lowing to him in the pasture so he might hear.

إِذا غَفَلَت نادَت وَإِن نابَ نَبأَةً

عَلى سَمعِها تَذكر طَلاها فَتَربَعا

Whenever she grew heedless she called; if a faint sound fell

upon her hearing, she remembered her calf and halted.

فَخالَفَها عاري النَواهِقِ شاسِبٌ

أَخو قَفرَةٍ أَضحى وَأَمسى مُجَوَّعا

Then, behind her back, came a lean beast with bare cheekbones,

a denizen of wilderness, famished morning and evening.

فَاِنهَل مِنهُ بعدَ عَلٍّ وَلَم يَدَع

لِمُلتَمِسٍ إِلّا وَشيقاً مُذَعذَعا

He drank his fill of him after another draught, and left

a seeker nothing but scattered strips of flesh.

فَجاءَ بِرَيّاهُ نَسيمٌ مِنَ الصَبا

إِلَيها وَرُزءٌ جَرَّ ثَكلاً فَأَوجَعا

A breeze from the east wind brought his scent

to her, and a loss that brought bereavement and anguish.

فَأَعجَلَها عَن حَملِها الوَجدُ فَاِرتَمَت

عَلى دَهسٍ لا تَأتَلي أَن تَشَنَّعا

Grief drove her hurriedly from her burden, and she flung herself

onto soft sand, sparing no effort to show her distress.

مولّهَةً لَم يَترُكِ الوَجدُ عِندَها

بِواحِدِها إِلّا فُؤاداً مُرَوَّعا

Distraught, grief had left her,

over her only one, nothing but a terror-stricken heart.

فَطافَت بِمَلقاهُ وَمَصرَعِ جَنبِهِ

فَسافَت دَماً مِنهُ وَشِلواً مُقَطَّعا

She circled where he lay, where his flank had fallen,

and sniffed his blood and a severed limb.

لَحارَت وَبارَت وَاِستَطارَت وَرَجَّعَت

حَنيناً فَأَبكَت كُلَّ مَن كانَ موجَعا

She was bewildered, undone, frantic, and repeated

a lament that made everyone already hurting weep.

وَنَدَّت عَلى وَحشِيِّها تَركَبُ الرُبى

وَتَنفي الحَصا أَخفافُها قَد تَصَدَّعا

She veered outward and bolted, climbing the hills,

her hoof-pads scattering pebbles, shattered into pieces.

فَلَأياً بِلَأيٍ ما ثَنَوها عَشِيَّةً

وَشَدّوا بِعَينَيها الحِبالَ لِتَربَعا

Only with hardship upon hardship did they turn her back at dusk

and fasten ropes by her eyes to make her stay.

فَقامَت أَخير البَركِ يَدعو حَنينُها

حَنين المَواليهِ الثَكالى المُرَجَّعا

She stood last among the kneeling camels, her moaning calling forth

the repeated moans of the grief-maddened, bereaved mothers.

وَقُمنَ بِجَنبَيها فَأَسعَدنَ شَجوَها

كَما أَسعَدَ الحَيُّ المُصابَ المُفَجَّعا

They stood on either side of her and joined her sorrow,

as the tribe joins the mourning of an afflicted, bereaved man.

فَإِن سَجَرَت وَهناً سَجَرنَ لِسَجرِها

وَإِن سَجعَت وَهناً تَجاوَبنَ سُجَّعا

If she bellowed in the night, they bellowed at her cry;

if she crooned in the night, they answered one another, crooning.

فَحَنَّ نِساءُ الحَيِّ مِن بَعدِ هَجعَةٍ

لِصَوتٍ دَعا أَثكالَهُنَّ فَأَسمَعا

Then the women of the tribe lamented after a sleep,

at a voice that roused their bereavements and made itself heard.

وَأَقبَلنَ مِن هُنا وَهُنا وَأَسفَرَت

سَتورُ الدُجى عَن مَأتَمٍ قَد تَجَمَّعا

They came from here and there, and there lifted

the curtains of darkness from a mourning assembly already gathered.

فَما شقَّ ضَوءُ الفَجرِ حَتّى تَصَدَّعَت

جُيوبٌ وَحَتّى فاضَ دَمعٌ فَأَسرَعا

Dawn's light had not broken before there were torn

garment-necks, and tears overflowing and running swiftly—

بِأَوجَعَ مِنّي يا سَعيدُ تَحَرُّقاً

عَلَيكَ وَلَكِن لَم أَجِد عَنكَ مَدفَعا

is more anguished than I, O Sa‘id, burning with grief

for you; yet I found no way to shield you.

فَلَو أَنَّ شَيئاً في لِقائِكَ مُطمِعٌ

صَبَرتُ وَلَكِن لا أَرى فيهِ مَطمَعا

If anything offered hope of meeting you,

I would endure; but I see no hope in it.

فَأُقسِمُ لا تَنفَكُّ نَفسي شَجِيَّةً

عَلَيكَ وَوَجهي حائِل اللَونِ أَسفَعا

I swear my soul will never cease grieving

for you, and my face will remain changed in color, darkened.

وَقَد كُنتُ أَلحي مَن بَكى لِمُصيبَةٍ

فَها أَنَذا قَد صِرتُ أَبكي وَأجزَعا

I used to rebuke whoever wept over a calamity;

now here I am, weeping and grieving.

وَقَد قَرَعَتني الحادِثاتُ وَرَيبُها

بِثَكلِكَ حَتّى لَم أَجِد فِيَّ مَقرَعا

Calamities and their uncertainties have struck me

with your loss, till I found no unstruck place within me.

وَقَد كُنتُ مَغبوطاً وَقَد كُنتُ مُصعباً

فَأَصبَحتُ مَرحوماً لِفَقدِكَ أَخضَعا

I was envied, and I was unsubdued;

now I am pitied for losing you, humbled.

وَقَد كُنتَ لي أَنفاً حَميماً فَفاتَني

بِكَ القَدَرُ الجاري فَأَصبَحتُ أَجدَعا

You were my nose, dearly cherished; then I was robbed

of you by fate running its course, and left nose-severed.

فَلَو أَنَّ طَوداً مِن تُهامَةَ ضافَهُ

مِنَ الوَجدِ ما قَد ضافَني لَتَضَعضَعا

If a mountain of Tihamah were visited

by the grief that has visited me, it would crumble.

فَيا سَيِّداً قَد كَانَ لِلحَيِّ عصمَةً

وَيا جَبَلاً قَد كانَ لِلحَيِّ مَفزَعا

O lord who was a safeguard for the tribe,

O mountain who was a refuge for the tribe!

دَرَأتُ بِهِ جَبرَ الرَزايا وَلَم أَجِد

لَهُ خَلَفاً في الغابِرينِ فَأَقنَعا

Through him I fended off the crushing force of calamities, and found

no successor to him among those remaining to content me.

وَأَبيَضُ وَضّاحُ الجَبينِ كَأَنَّهُ

سَنا قَمَرٍ أَوفى مَعَ العَشرِ أَربَعا

A fair man, bright of brow, as though he were

the radiance of a moon completing ten nights and four.

قَطيعُ لِسانِ الكَلبِ عَن نَبحِ ضَيفِهِ

مُوَطّأ أَكنافِ الرِواقِ سمَيدَعا

His dog's tongue was silenced against barking at his guest,

his tent's sides welcoming—a generous lord.

وَمُجتَنِباً لِلقَولِ في غَيرِ حينِهِ

حِفاظاً وَقَوّالاً إِذا قالَ مُصعِقا

He avoided speech outside its proper time,

guarding honor, but was eloquent and thunderous when he spoke.

يَصونُ بِبَذلِ المالِ نَفساً كَريمَةً

وَعِرضاً حِمىً مِن كُلِّ سوء مُمَنَّعا

By spending wealth he protected a noble soul

and an honor kept as a sanctuary, defended against every evil.

فَتى الخَيرِ لَم يَهمُم بِغدرٍ وَلَم يُعَب

بِعجزٍ وَلَم يَمدُد إِلى الذَمِّ أَصبعا

A youth of goodness, he never intended treachery, nor was faulted

for incapacity, nor stretched a finger toward disgrace.

وَلا كانَ في النادي فَيَهجُرُ قَومَهُ

بِأَملَأَ مِنهُ في العُيونِ وَأَروَعا

No man in the council, leaving his people behind,

filled the eyes more than he, or inspired more awe.

وَلا غابَ إِلّا نافَسَ القَومَ بَينَهُم

وَلا آبَ إِلّا كانَ لِلحَيِّ مُقنِعا

Even in absence he rivaled the people among them;

never did he return without satisfying the tribe.

وَما زالَ حَمّالاً لِكُلِّ عَظيمَةٍ

إِلى أَن قَضى مِن نَحبِهِ مُذ تَرَعرَعا

He never ceased to bear every mighty burden,

from the time he grew up until he fulfilled his appointed term.

فَتىً كانَ لا يَدعو إِلى الشَرِّ نَفسَهُ

فَإِن جاءَهُ الشَرُّ اِمتَطاهُ فَأَوضَعا

A youth who never called himself toward evil;

but if evil came to him, he mounted it and drove it swiftly.

وَيَركَبُ صَعبَ الأَمرِ حَتّى يَرُدَّهُ

عَلى عَقِبٍ مِنهُ ذَلولاً مُوَقَّعا

He rode the difficult affair until he brought it

back upon its heels, docile and scarred.

وَأَمرٍ كَحَدِّ السَيفِ قَد خاضَ غَمرَهُ

بِهِمّاتِهِ كيما يَضُرَّ وَيَنفَعا

Many an affair like a sword's edge he plunged deep into,

with his high resolves, to harm and to benefit.

رَأَتهُ المَنايا خَيرَنا فَاِختَرَمنَهُ

وَكُنَّ بِتَعجيلِ الأَخاييرِ نُزَّعا

The fates saw him as our best, and cut him off;

they were eager to hurry the best away.

تَقنّصهُ مِن دونِ بَيضاءَ نَثلَةٍ

وَعَضبٍ إِذا ما صابَ لِلقَطعِ أَسرَعا

They hunted him despite a gleaming, ample coat of mail,

and a keen sword that, when it struck, cut swiftly,

وَأَجرَد خوّارِ العِنانِ كَأَنَّه

عُقابٌ هَوَت مِن بَينِ نيقينَ أَتلَعا

and a sleek horse, yielding to the rein, as though

an eagle swooping between two peaks—tall-necked,

أشقّ طَواهُ الرَكضُ في كُلِّ غارَةٍ

وَحَطمَ القَنا بِالنَحرِ حَتّى تَجَزَّعا

broad-chested, made lean by galloping in every raid,

shattering lances with his breast until they splintered.

وَأَشرَسَ يَستَقري الكماةَ أَجابَهُ

فَبَوَّأَهُ في مُلتَقى الخَيلِ مَصرَعا

He answered a fierce foe who sought out armored champions,

and gave him a place to fall where the horsemen met:

جَهيضاً يَذُبُّ الطَيرَ عَنهُ بِكَفِّهِ

فَيُحجمنَ عَنهُ ثُمَّ يَرجِعنَ شُرَّعا

laid low, driving the birds from himself with his hand;

they drew back from him, then returned with necks outstretched.

فَمِن والِغٍ حَصداءَ جِلدَةَ ظَهرِهِ

وَمِن ناهِشٍ أَدفى الجَناحَينِ أَقرَعا

Some lapped at the tough skin of his back,

and some tore at him, drooping-winged and bald-headed.

كَأَنَّ سَعيدَ الخَيرِ لَم يُهدِ غارَةً

كَرَحلِ الجَرادِ اِلتَفّ ثُمَّ تَرَفَّعا

As though good Sa‘id had never led a raid

like a swarm of locusts, clustered and then rising high,

وَلَم يُصبِحِ الخيلَ الحلولَ بِخَيلِهِ

فَيَترُكَ مِنهُم ساحَةَ الدارِ بِلقَعا

nor attacked the encamped horsemen at dawn with his cavalry,

leaving their dwelling's courtyard an empty waste.

وَما ذرّ قَرنُ الشَمسِ حَتّى كَأَنَّها

تُرى بِرِجالِ الحَيِّ خُشباً مُصَرَّعا

Before the sun's first rim appeared, it was as though

one saw the tribe's men as felled timbers.

وَإِن شِئتَ أَن تَلقى بِكُلِّ مَجازَةٍ

لَقيتَ لَهُ حرّىً وَسَخلاً مُوَصَّعا

If you wished to meet, at every crossing,

you would meet a grief-scorched woman and a forsaken little one, his doing.

وَإِن غَشِيَت حُزناً سَنابِكُ خَيلِهِ

تَضاءَلَ حَتّى يُصبِح الحُزنُ أَجرَعا

If his horses' hooves covered rugged ground,

it diminished till the rugged ground became a sandy plain.

وَتَبعَثُ يَقظانَ التُرابِ جِيادُهُ

وَنائِمَهُ حَتّى يَهبَّ فَيَسطَعا

His steeds stirred up the wakeful dust

and the sleeping dust, till it rose and towered.

وَلَم يَسرِ بِالرَكبِ الخِفافِ لُحومُهُم

عَلى قُلَّصٍ تَثني قَوائِم ضُلَّعا

Nor had he traveled by night with riders lean of flesh,

on young she-camels bending their curved legs,

فَأظهرَ وَالحربا يَنوفُ بِعودِهِ

مولٍ فقاهُ الشَمسَ يَخدينَ رُفَّعا

and reached midday while the chameleon rose high on its stick,

turning its nape to the sun, as they strode with heads held high.

لَها وَقعَةٌ في كُلِّ يَومٍ وَلَيلَةٍ

وَتَعليمَةٌ تَجني النجاءَ الهَملعا

They had a rest in every day and night,

and an urging lash that drew forth headlong speed.

وَتستودعُ المعزاءَ عِندَ اِنبَعاثِها

بَناتُ المَرايا وَالشَريح المُقَطَّعا

As they set out, they left on the stony ground

daughters of mirrors and strips of severed flesh.

كَأَنَّ عَلى أَكوارِها حينَ تَنفَري

سَرابيلُهُم عَنهُم أَجادلَ وُقَّعا

As though upon their saddles, when stripped

of their tunics, they were falcons perched.

تَرى كُلَّ دَهماء الحَواشي مكورةً

عَلى كُلِّ وَجهٍ مِنهُم وَأَخدعا

You saw every dark-edged cloth wound

around each man's face and the side of his neck.

وَلَم يَهبِ الكومَ المَرايا وَعَبدها

كَأَنَّ بِها نَخلاً بِنَجرانَ يُنَّقا

Nor had he given away the large-humped milch camels and their slave,

as though among them stood lofty palms of Najran,

مُضَمَّنَةً أَمثالُها في بُطونِها

مَكحَّلَةً قُبلَ المَرافِق مُزَّعا

bearing their like within their bellies,

marked with kohl-like black patches before the elbows.

تَرفُّ بِأَمثالِ المَجادِلِ لَم يَدَع

رَضيخَ النَوى وَالقضب فيهِنَّ مضبَعا

They flourished, great as towers; no hollow was left

beneath their forelegs by crushed date-stones and green fodder.

تَصَيَّفت اللُجون ثُمَّ تَخَيَّرَت

لَها مِن شَماريخ الفُلَيجَةِ مَربَعا

They summered at al-Lujun, then chose

a spring pasture for themselves on al-Fulayjah's peaks.

إِذا شَقشَقَت فيها حَسِبت هَديرَها

هَماهِمَ رَعدٍ آخِرَ اللَيلِ رُجَّعا

When they bellowed there, you would think their roaring

the repeated rumblings of thunder late at night.

وَلَم يحرمِ البيض اللَواتي كَأَنَّها

نُجوم الثُرَيّا مَسقَطَ النَسرِ طُلَّعا

Nor did he deny the fair women—who seemed like

Pleiades-stars, rising at the Eagle's setting—

مجَلَّسَةً خَزّاً وَقَزّاً يَطَأنَهُ

بِأَقدامِها وَالسابِرِيَّ المُضَلَّعا

seated as they were, silk-wool cloth and silk to tread

under their feet, and striped Sabiri cloth.

تَهزُّ إِذا تَمشي مُتوناً كَأَنَّما

تَهزَّ بِهِنَّ الريح عيدانَ نيّعا

They swayed their backs as they walked, as though

the wind swayed supple branches with them.

كَأنَّ البُرى وَالعاجَ في قَصَباتِها

تَغمُرنَ ضالاً أَو تعمرنَ خروعا

As though the rings and ivory upon their shins

covered wild lote-wood or clothed castor stems.

تَرى الناسَ أَرسالاً إِلَيهِ كَأَنَّما

تَضَمَّنَ أَرزاقَ العفاةِ لَهُم مَعا

You saw people coming to him in groups, as though

he had undertaken the sustenance of all the petitioners together.

فَمِن صادِرٍ قَد آبَ بِالرَيِّ حامِد

وَمِن وارِدٍ شاحٍ بِفيهِ لِيَكرَعا

Some departed, returning with thirst quenched, thankful;

others arrived, mouths agape to drink deeply.

أَفاتَ بِإِبقاءٍ عَلى العِرضِ مالَهُ

فَأنجَح إِذ أَكدى البَخيل وَأَوضَعا

He used up his wealth to preserve his honor,

and succeeded where the miser failed, speeding ahead.

وَلا يَستَخِصُّ القَدرَ مِن دونِ جارِهِ

لِيُشبعَ وَالجيرانُ يُمسونَ جُوَّعا

He did not reserve the cooking-pot for himself, excluding his neighbor,

to eat his fill while the neighbors passed the evening hungry.

جَوادٌ إِذا ما ألصقَ المَحلُ بِالثَرى

وَضاقَ لِئامُ الناسِ عَنهُ تَوَسَّعا

Generous when drought pressed men into the dust;

when the base among men grew straitened, he grew open-handed.

كَساهُ الحَياء الجودُ حَتّى لَوَ اِنَّهُ

يُجَرَّدُ مِن سِربالِهِ ما تَمَنَّعا

Generosity clothed him in modesty, so that even if he

were stripped of his tunic, he would not resist.

وَيُلقي رِداءَ العصبِ قَبلَ اِبتِذالِهِ

وَقَبلَ بلاهُ الحَضرَمِيَّ المُرَصَّعا

He gave away his striped mantle before wearing it out,

and his ornamented Hadrami cloak before it wore out.

إِذا العرقُ المَرشوح بَلَّ رِداءَهُ

جَرى المِسك مِن أَردانِها فَتَضَوَّعا

When oozing sweat wetted his mantle,

musk flowed from its sleeves, spreading fragrance.

فَيَوماً تَراهُ بِالعَبيرِ مُضَمَّخاً

وَيَوماً تَراهُ بِالدِماءِ مُلَمَّعا

One day you saw him smeared with blended perfume,

another day you saw him spattered with blood.

وَيَوماً تَراهُ يَسحَبُ الوَشيَ غادِياً

وَيَوماً تَراهُ في الحَديدِ مُقَنَّعا

One day you saw him trailing brocade, going out at dawn,

another day you saw him hooded in iron.

إِذا نالَ مِن أَقصى مَدى المَجدِ غايَةً

سَما طالِباً مِن تِلكَ أَسنى وَأَرفَعا

When he attained a goal at glory's farthest reach,

he rose, seeking one more radiant and higher than that.

أَجَلَّ عَنِ العورِ الهَواجِرِ سَمعَهُ

وَوَقَّرَهُ مِن أَن يُقالَ فَيسمَعا

He held his hearing above shameful, obscene words,

honoring it too much to hear such things spoken.

لَهُ راحَةٌ فيها حباً لِصَديقِهِ

وَأُخرى سَقَت أَعداءَهُ السُمّ مُنقَعا

He had one palm holding gifts for his friend,

and another that gave his enemies steeped poison to drink.

فَما فجعُ الأَقوام مِن رُزء هالِكٍ

بِأَعظَمَ مِمّا قَد رزِئتُ وَأَفظَعا

No people's grief over the loss of one who died

is greater or more terrible than the loss I have suffered.

وَمَن طابَ نَفساً مِن أَخٍ لوَداعِهِ

فَما طِبتُ نَفساً عَن أَخي يَومَ وَدَّعا

Whoever feels reconciled to a brother's farewell,

I was not reconciled to my brother when he said farewell.

فَواعَجباً لِلأَرضِ كَيفَ تَأَلَّبَت

عَلَيهِ وَوارَت ذَلِكَ الفَضلَ أَجمَعا

How wondrous the earth, how it gathered together

over him and buried all that excellence!

وَيا بُؤسَ هَذا الدَهر مِن ذي تَلوُّنٍ

وَذي فَجَعاتٍ ما أَفَظَّ وَأَفظَعا

Woe to this age, so changeful,

so full of bereavements—how cruel, how terrible!

هُوَ المُتعِسُ النُعمان قَسراً وَقَبلَهُ

أَبا كَربٍ وَالأَيهَمَينِ وَتُبَّعا

It is what brought al-Nu‘man low by force, and before him

Abu Karib, the two Ayhams, and Tubba‘,

وَزيد بنَ كَهلانٍ وَعَمرو بن عامِرٍ

وَحلوانَ أَردى عُنوَةً وَالهَمَيسَعا

and Zayd son of Kahlan, and ‘Amr son of ‘Amir;

Hulwan it destroyed by force, and al-Hamaysa‘.

فَمَن ذا الَّذي أَضحى يُؤمّلُ بَعدَهُم

فَلاحاً وَقَد كانوا أَعَزَّ وَأَمنَعا

Who, then, after them still hopes

for prosperity, when they were mightier and more unassailable?

وَما أَحَدٌ إِلّا لَهُ المَوتُ ناصِبٌ

بِمَوقِعَةٍ مِنهُ حَبائِل صُرَّعا

There is no one for whom death is not setting,

at a place for his fall, snares laid to strike him down.

وَكُلُّ اِمرِئٍ مِنها بِمَنزِل قلعَةٍ

وَإِن وَلَدَ الأَولاد فيها وَجَمَّعا

Every person has on earth a dwelling to be quit,

even if he begets children there and gathers wealth.